Текст песни Goodbye Mick (Wolfe Tones) с переводом

The ships it sails in half an hour to cross the broad Atlantic

Me friends are standing on the quay with grief and sorrow frantic

I’m just about to sail away in good ship Dan O’Leary

The anchors are weighed and the gangway’s up

I’m leaving Tipperary

And it’s goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat

And goodbye Kate and Mary

The anchors are weighed and the gangway’s up

I’m leaving Tipperary

And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say

I’m bound for New York City, boys, three thousand miles away

In my portmanteau here I have some cabbage, beans and bacon

And if ye’s think I can’t eat that

Well there’s where you’re mistaken

For the ship will play with pitch and toss

For half a dozen farthings

I’ll roll my bundle on me back and walk to Castle Gardens

Now won’t I come that Yankee chat, I guess I’m calculatin'

Come liquor up, ol' sonny boy, when an old friend I am treatin'

I’m deep in love with Molly Burke like an ass is fond of clover

I’ll send for her when I get there, that’s if she will come over

And it’s goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat

And goodbye Kate and Mary

The anchors are weighed and the gangway’s up

I’m leaving Tipperary

And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say

I’m bound for New York City, boys, three thousand miles away

Then fare ye well, old Erin dear, to part me heart does ache, yea

From Carrickfergus to Cape Clear, I’ll never see your equal

Although to foreign parts we’re bound

Where cannibals may eat us

We’ll ne’er forget the holy ground, the poteen and potatoes

And it’s goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat

And goodbye Kate and Mary

The anchors are weighed and the gangway’s up

I’m leaving Tipperary

And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say

I’m bound for New York City, boys, three thousand miles away

When good Saint Paddy banished snakes

He shook them from his garment

He never thought we’d go abroad to live upon such varmint

Nor quit this land where whiskey grew to wear the Yankee button

Take vinegar for mountain dew and toads for mountain mutton

And it’s goodbye Mick and goodbye Pat

And goodbye Kate and Mary

The anchors are weighed and the gangway’s up

I’m leaving Tipperary

And now the steam is blowing off, I have no more to say

I’m bound for New York City, boys, three thousand miles away

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