Live in Dublin

Christy Moore


  1. Hey Sandy
  2. The Boys of Barr Na Sraide
  3. Little Mother
  4. Clyde's Bonnie Banks
  5. Pretty Boy Floyd
  6. Bogey's Bonnie Belle
  7. The Crack Was Ninety In The Isle Of Man
  8. Black Is The Colour Of My True Love's Hair
  9. One Last Cold Kiss

Sleeve Notes


Christy Moore - Guitar & Vocals
Donal Lunny - Bouzouki, Guitar & Backround Vocals
Jimmy Faulkner - Lead & Slide Guitars

Produced & Recorded By : Nicky Ryan

Song Notes

1. Hey Sandy

The sun was hot and the air was heavy and the marching men came by
You stood at the door and you watched them pass and you asked the reason why
The sound of steel on their Jackboot heel came pounding through your head
Your reason is past, they've come at last, with the blessings of the dead

Hey Sandy hey Sandy why are you the one
All the years of growing up are wasted now and gone
Did you see them turn did you feel the burn of the bullets as they flew
Hey Sandy hey Sandy just what did you do

At the college square they were standing there with flag and with the gun
And the whispered words as the young ones stirred, why are these things done
And the air was still with the lonely thrill of now the hour is near
And the smell of sweat was better yet than the awful smell of fear

The awful shout as you all ran out, why are these things done
And you stood and stared yet no one cared for another campus bum
Your songs are dead and your hymns instead are to the funeral pyre
And the words of youth, like love and truth are just ashes on the fire

Did you throw the stone at the men alone with their bayonets fixed for hire
Did you think that they would kill no one did you scream as they opened fire
As the square ran red with your bloodstains spread and the darkness round you grew
Did you feel the pain did you call the name of the man that you never knew

2. The Boys Of Barr Na Sraide,

Oh the town it climbs the mountain and looks upon the sea
At sleeping time or waking time it's there I'd like to be
To walk again those kindly streets the place where life began
With those boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren

With cudgels stout they roamed about to hunt for the dreolin
We searched for birds from every furze from Litir to Dooneen
We danced for joy beneath the sky life held no print or plan
When the boys of Barr na Sraide went hunting for the wren

But now they toil in foreign soil where they have made their way
Deep in the heart of London town or over in Broadway
And I left to sing their deeds and praise them while I can
Those boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren

And here's a health to them tonight wherever they may be
By the groves of Carham river or the slopes of Bi na Ti
John Dalaig and Batt Andy and the Sheehans Con and Dan
And the boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren

When the wheel of life runs out and peace comes over me
Just take me back to that old town between the hills and sea
I'll take my rest in those green fields the place where life began
With those boys of Barr na Sraide who hunted for the wren

3. Little Mother

Hey little mother what's in your bag
Chocolates and sweets

Hey Mr. Postman what's in your bag
A note from your beloved

Hey Mr. Tailor what's in your bag
The finest wedding dress

Hey Mr. Harvester what's in your bag
Solitude and death

4. Clyde's Bonnie Banks

By Clyde's Bonnie Banks as I sadly did wander
Among the pit heaps as evening drew nigh
I spied a fair maiden all dressed in deep mourning
She was weeping and wailing with many a sigh
I stepped up beside her and thus I addressed her
Pray tell me fair maid of your sorrow and pain
Oh sobbing and sighing at last she did answer
Johnny Murphy kind sir was my true lover's name

Twenty one years of age full of youth and good looking
To work in the mines of high Blantyre he came
The wedding was fixed all the guests were invited
That calm summers evening my Johnny was slain
The explosion was heard all the women and children
With pale anxious faces they ran to the mine
When the news was made known all the hills rang with mourning
Three hundred and ten young miners were slain

Now husbands and wives and sweethearts and brothers
That Blantyre explosion you'll never forget
And all you young miners that hear my sad story
Remember your comrades who lie at their rest.

5. Pretty Boy Floyd

Come gather round me people and a story I will tell
About Pretty Boy Floyd the outlaw, Oklahoma knew him well
In the town of Shawnee all on a Saturday afternoon
With his wife beside him in the truck as into the town he rode

There a deputy approached him in a manner very rude
Using vulgar language that his wife she overheard
Pretty Boy grabbed a log chain and the deputy grabbed his gun
In the fight that followed he laid the deputy down

He took to the woods and mountains and the Canadian river shore
Pretty Boy found a welcome at many a poor farmers door
He took to the woods and mountains and led a life of shame
Every crime in Oklahoma was added to his name

There is many starving farmer the same old story told
How Pretty Boy paid their mortgage and saved their little homes
More speak about a strange man who came to beg a meal
And underneath his napkin left a thousand dollar bill

In the town of Shawnee all on a Christmas day
There came a car filled with groceries and a message that did say
You say I am an outlaw you say I am a thief
But here's a Christmas dinner for the children on relief

As round the world I travel I meet all kinds of men
Some will rob you with a six gun some with a fountain pen
But as round the world I travel and round the world I roam
I've yet to see an outlaw drive a family from their home

6. Bogey's Bonnie Belle

As I went by Huntleigh town
One evening for to fee
I met with Bogey O' Cairnee
And with him I did agree

To care for his two best horses
Or cart or harrow or plough
Or anything about farm work
That I very well should know

Old Bogey had a daughter
Her name was Isobel
She's the lilly of the valley
And the primrose of the dell
And when she went out walking
She took me for her guide
Down by the Burn O'Cairnee
To watch the small fish glide

And when three months was past and gone
This girl she lost her bloom
The red fell from her rosy cheeks
And her eyes began to swoon

And when nine months were past and gone
She bore to me a son
And I was straight sent for
To see what could be done

I said that I would marry her
But that it would nae do
You're no a match for my bonny wee girl
And she's no match for you

Now she's married to a tinker lad
That comes from Huntleigh town
He sells pots and pans and paraffin lamps
And scours the country round

Maybe she's had a better match
Old Bogey can nae tell
So fair well ye lads o Huntleigh town
And to Bogey's bonnie belle

7. The Crack Was Ninety In The Isle Of Man

Well weren't we the rare oul stock
Spent the evenin' gettin' locked
Up in the Ace a Hearts
Where the high stools were engaging
Over the Butt Bridge down by the dock
The boat she sailed at five o' clock
Hurry boys now said Whack
Or before we're there we'll all be back
Carry him if you can
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

Before we reached the Alexander Base
The ding dong we did surely raise
In the bar of the ship we had great sport
As the boat she sailed out of the port
Landed up in The Douglas Head
Enquired for a vacant bed
The dining room we soon got shown
By a decent woman up the road
Lads ate it if you can
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

Next morning we went for a ramble round
Viewed the sights of Douglas Town
Then we went for a mighty session
In a pub they call Dick Darbies
We must have been drunk by half past three
To sober up we went swimmin' in the sea
Back to the digs for the spruce up
And while waitin' for the Rosie
We all drew up our plan
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

That night we went to the Texas Bar
Came back down by horse and car
Met Big Jim and all went in
To drink some wine in Yate's
The Liverpool Judies it was said
Were all to be found in the Douglas Head
McShane was there in his suit and shirt
Them foreign girls he was tryin' to flirt
Sayin' here girls I'm your man
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

Whacker fancied his good looks
On an Isle of Man woman he was struck
But a Liverpool lad was by her side
And he throwin' the jar into her
Whacker thought he'd take a chance
He asked the quare one out to dance
Around the floor they stepped it out
And to Whack it was no bother
Everythin' was goin to plan
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

The Isle of Man women fancied Whack
Your man stood there til his mates came back
Whack! They all whacked into Whack
And Whack was whacked out on his back
The polis force arrived as well
Banjoed a couple of them as well
Landed up in the Douglas Jail
Until the Dublin boat did sail
Deported every man
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

8. Black Is The Colour Of My True Love's hair

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I could be as one

I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I ne'er can be
I write her a letter just a few short lines
And suffer death a thousand times

9. One Last Cold Kiss

Two island swans, mated for life
And his faithful heart would not consider any other wife
Foe three years peaceful joy midst the rushes of the pond
Proud and gentle was the loving of the last two island swans

Their love was like a circle, no beginning and no end
With his lady by his side a treasure and best friend
The pond was all so peaceful in the rising of the sun
Young and free as the island breeze their life had just begun

'Til a dread day in November when the searing cold did start
Stalked the hunter with his bow and put an arrow through her heart
Husband come to my side let your feathers warm my pain
For I feel I will not spend another day with you again

And the cold winds blow
He was brave but he's laid low
By her body in the isle of mist
I saw him give her one last cold kiss, one last cold kiss

Of swans the people talk of only one in this days tide
Though they brought him twenty ladies he would take no other bride
They say he will not move from the place where she did fall
Once so proud he's beaten now and he will not rise at all

We recorded this album in April 1978, when we did gigs at The Meeting Place, Pat Dowling's of Prosperous, Trinity College and the Grapevine Arts centre in North Great George's St. One number ' Clydes Bonnie Banks '' was recorded in Nicholas Ryan's front room. We got great assistance from Ireland's greatest roadcrew, John McFadden and Leon Brennan. I'll dedicate this album to Juno, who arrived as we started'