The Old Bog Road-Josef Locke & Orchestra/Ashley Hutchings

[ti:The Old Bog Road] [ar:Various Artists] [al:Sounds Of Ireland] [offset:0] [00:00.00]The Old Bog Road - Josef Locke & Orchestra [00:11.63]My feet are here on Broadway [00:18.39]This blessed harvest morn, [00:23.35]But oh! the ache thats in my heart [00:28.58]For the spot where I was born. [00:34.61] [00:35.85]My weary hands are blistered [00:41.37]Through work in cold and heat! [00:46.10]And oh! to swing a scythe once more [00:49.30] [00:50.01]Through a field of Irish wheat. [00:55.42]but here was I on Broadway [01:00.43]A-building bricks per loa [01:06.26] [01:07.55]Id sooner see the hawthorn tree [01:16.98]By the Old Bog Road. [01:23.89] [01:30.46]My mother died last springtime, [01:37.17]When Erins fields were green. [01:42.14]The neighbours said her waking [01:46.12]Was the finest ever seen. [01:53.34]There were snowdrops and primroses [01:57.83] [01:58.72]Piled high above her bed, [02:01.75] [02:02.75]And Ferns Church was crowded [02:06.46]When her funeral Mass was read. [02:12.34] [02:13.27]but here was I on Broadway [02:18.13]A-building bricks per load. [02:24.43] [02:25.88]When they carried out her coffin [02:35.68]Down the old Bog Road. [02:44.89] [02:48.95]Ah! Lifes a weary puzzle, [02:54.36]Past finding out by man, [02:57.30] [02:58.65]Ill take the day for what its worth [03:01.82]And do the best I can. [03:05.66] [03:06.89]Since no one cares a rush for me [03:10.96]What need is there to moan, [03:13.65] [03:15.11]Ill go my way and draw my pay [03:19.91]And smoke my pipe alone. [03:25.15]Each human heart must bear its grief [03:28.72] [03:29.80]Though bitter be the bode [03:36.21] [03:37.18]but God be with you, Ireland, [03:46.71] [03:47.47]And the Old Bog Road [03:59.76]