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Bean Pháidín / An Poc ar Buile Lyrics

Curfá 1:
'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise
'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise bean Pháidín
'S é'n trua ghéar nach mise, nach mise
'S an bhean atá aige bheith caillte
Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí'
Is rachainn go Gallaí' le Pháidín
Rachainn go Gallaí' go Gallaí'
Is thiocfainn abhaile sa mbád leis

(Curfá 1)

Rachainn go haonach an Chlocháin
Is siar go Béal Á' na Báighe
Bhreathnóinn isteach tríd an bhfuinneog
A' súil is go bhfeicfinn bean Pháidín

(Curfá 1)

Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa
Go mbristear do chosa 'bean Pháidín
Go mbristear do chosa, do chosa
Go mbristear do chosa 's do chnámha

(Curfá 1)

Ar mo ghabáil dom siar chun Droichead Uí Mhórdha
Píce i m' dhóid is mé ag dul i meitheal
Cé chasfaí orm i gcumar ceoidh
Ach pocán crón is é ar buile

Curfá 2:
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile

Ritheamar trasna trí ruilleogach
Is ghluais an comhrac ar fud na muinge
Is treascairt dá bhfuair sé sna turtóga
Is chuas ina ainneoin ar a dhroim le fuinneamh
(Curfá 2)

Bhí garda mór i mBaile an Róistigh
Is bhailigh fórsaí chun sinn a chlipeadh
Bhuail sé rop dá adhairc sa tóin air
Is dá bhríste nua do dhein sé giobail

(Curfá 2)

Chorus 1:
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
It's a great pity that I'm not the wife of Páidín
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
And the woman that he has to be dead

I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would go to Galway with Páidín
I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would return in the boat with him

(Chorus 1)

I would go __ to an Clochán
And west by Béal Á' na Báighe
I would look in through the windows
__ I would spot Páidín's wife
(Chorus 1)

May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs be broken, Páidín's wife
May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs and your bones be broken

(Chorus 1)

As I set out to old Dromore
With pike in hand to join a meitheal
Who should I meet but a tan puck goat
And he roaring mad in ferocious mettle

Chorus 2:
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile

He chased me over bush and weed
And through the bog the run proceeded
'Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse
And on his back I jumped unheeded

(Chorus 2)

When the sergeant stood in Rochestown
With a force of guards to apprehend us
The goat, he tore his trousers down
And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders

(Chorus 2)
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