The Streets of Laredo
(Bold Phelim Brady, The Bard of Armagh)

Oh, listen to the tale of the old Irish Harper
Scorn not the strains of his old withered hands
Remember those fingers, they once could move sharper
To raise up the strains of his dear native land

How I long to muse on the days of my boyhood
Four score and three years have fled by then
It’s a keen, sweet reflection, that every young joy,
For the merry hearted boys make the best of old men

At a faire, or a wake, I would twist my shillelagh
Dance through the fields with me brogues tied with straw
And all the pretty colleens around me would gather
And call me Bold Phelim Brady The Bard of Armagh

Then beat the drum slowly, play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march as you carry me along
Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me
I am Bold Phelim Brady a Brad of Armagh

And when Sergeant Death, in his cold arm’s embraces
Lull me to sleep with an Erin Go Bragh
By the side of sweet Kathleen, my dear bride o’ place me
And forget Phelim Brady the Bard of Armagh

For in truth, I have wandered this wide world over,
Yet Ireland’s my home and a blessing to me
And let the old sod that my old bones shall cover
Be the sod that is trod by the feet of the free.

And then beat a drum slowly, and play the fife lowly,
Play the dead march as you carry me along
Find More lyrics at www.sweetslyrics.com
Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me
I am Bold Phelim Brady a Bard of Armagh

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo
As I walked out in Laredo one day
I spied a young cowboy all dressed in white linen,
Wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay

I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy
These words he did say as I boldly stepped by
Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story
I’m shot in the breast and I’m going to die

Then beat a drum slowly, and play the fife lowly
Play the dead march as you carry me along
Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me
I’m a young cowboy and I know I’ve done wrong

Oh, once in the saddle, I used to go dashin’
Once in the saddle, I used to go gay
First to the dram house and then to the card house
I got shot in the breast and I’m dying today

Go gather around you a group of young cowboys
Tell them the story of this my sad fate
Tell one and the other, before they go further
Stop your wild rovin’ boys, before it’s too late.

And we beat a drum slowly, and we played the fife lowly
And we bitterly wept as we bore him along
We all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome
We all loved our comrade, although he’d done wrong.





Thanks to Sorryroper

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