Nead na lachain sa Mhúta 
Nead na lachain sa mhúta (x3) 
'S cuirfidh mé amach ar an gcuan thú 

A chailín bhig ghleoite mheidhrigh 
Bailigh do lachain 'is feighil iad (x3) 

Bhéarfaidh mé curach is criú dhuit (x3)
Is cuirfidh mé amach ar an gcuan thú  

Ceannóidh mé slat agus d'rú dhuit (x3) 
Is cuirfidh mé amach ar an gcuan thú. 

Girleen don't be idle (x3) 
Gather your ducks and mind them 
 

Cuirfimid Deaindí 
1.   Cuirfimid deaindí, deaindí, cuirfimid deaindí ar Mháire 
     Cuirfimid deaindí, deaindí, bróga ‘s stocaí bána (x2) 
  
Cur​fá: 
     Óró damhas ‘is damhas ‘is, óró damhas go haerach 
     Óró damhas ‘is damhas ‘is, damhas is damhas a laoi ghil (x2) 
  
2. Déanfaidh sí damhas ‘s damhas, déanfaidh sí damhas le pléisiúr 
   Déanfaidh sí damhas ‘s damhas, mé fhéin is í fhéin le chéile (x2) 
  
3. Caithfimid suas ‘is suas í, caithfimid suas go heasc í 
   Caithfimid suas ‘is suas í, seachain a chroí ‘s ná pleasc í (x2) 
  
4. Caithfimid suas ‘is suas é, caithfimid suas an páiste 
   Caithfimid suas ‘is suas , ‘s tiocfaidh sé anuas amaireach (x2)


Bog Braon 
Bog braon, bog braon, bog braon don seanduine 
Bog braon, 's blais féin, 's é a thabhairt don seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh an seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, 's nigh a chosa, ‘is bog deoch don seanduine 

Ubh circe, ubh circe, ubh circe don seanduine 
Ubh circe, 's bluirín ime, 's é a thabhairt don seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh an seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, 's nigh a chosa, ‘is bog deoch don seanduine 

Feoil úr, feoil úr, feoil úr don seanduine 
Feoil úr, is braon súip, 's é a thabhairt don seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh, cuir a chodladh an seanduine 
Cuir a chodladh, 's nigh a chosa, ‘is bog deoch don seanduine


Coal Creek  
What hills what hills my true love that burn with the fires of hell 
Those are the hill of Coal Creek where miners work and dwell 
  
I worked in the mines on Tuesday, I worked the day before 
At 3 o’clock on Wednesday I’ll work in the mine no more 
  
I boarded a train Wednesday morning, into the mine did go 
At seven o’clock in the morning we heard an awful blow 
  
Shut up in the mines of Coal Creek we know that we must die 
But if we trust in Jesus our souls to heaven will fly 
  
Goodbye father and mother, goodbye my wife and child 
Shut up in the mines of Coal Creek we know that we must die 
  
The birds are gladly singing the sun is shining bright 
But where we are this evening it is as dark as night 
  
  
From Spideoigín
 

Rye Tearnin’ (Fair in Belaghy) (words and music: Tony Small) 

I will not speak unkindly of solder and tin, 
Of the great traveling craftsmen John Martin and Jim, 
Not lazy or polished like some settled men, 
Who envy our freedom our ways and our women. 

Rye Tearnin’, Right Tearnin’, Tearnin’ away! 
There’s a fair in Belaghy this fine summer’s day 

Farewell to the Coveys ‘round Westport Mayo, 
We’ll travel through Shamtown to Ballinasloe, 
To the walled town of Galway then southward Hooray! 
We’ll speed through the Banner to Miltown-Malbay. 

We’ll deal at the Spancil and then we’ll head south 
To the Kingdom of Kerry, Kilorglin no doubt, 
We’ll talk of our travels with our own kith and kin 
Aunts uncles and cousins, there’s hundreds of them 

Rye Tearnin’ full Tearnin' Tearnin' away! 
There’s a fair in Belaghy this fine summer’s day. 

We’ll make no great hurry North Kerry or Clare, 
There’s no need to worry we always get there, 
To fulfill the promise we’re destined to go, 
To spend the wild winter on the bogs of Mayo. 

Rye Tearnin'’ Right Tearnin' Tearnin' away! 
There’s a fair in Belaghy this fine summer’s day.