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作词 : Ian Lynch |
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作曲 : Cormac Mac Diarmada/Daragh Lynch/Ian Lynch/John 'Spud' Murphy/Radie Peat |
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Sharp is the wind |
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Cold is the rain |
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Harsh is the livelong day |
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Upon the wide open plain |
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|
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By Donnelly's hollow |
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Under sod gorse and furze |
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There lies a young wren oh |
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By the saints she was cursed |
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|
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The wren is a small bird |
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So pretty she sings |
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She bested the eagle |
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When she hid in its wings |
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|
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With sticks and with stones |
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All among the small mounds |
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They come from all over |
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To hunt the wren on the wide open ground |
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|
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They flock round the soldiers |
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In jackets so red |
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For barrack room favours |
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Pennies and bread |
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|
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The soldier is rough |
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In anger or fun |
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He causes much bloodshed |
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With his big musket gun |
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|
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The birds of the earth |
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The beasts of the field |
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By spite and by fury |
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Are people revealed |
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|
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Attacked in the village |
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Spat on in town |
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They come from all over |
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To hunt the wren on the wide open ground |
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|
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The wren is a small bird |
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Though blamed for much woe |
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Her form is derided |
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Wherever she goes |
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|
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With cold want and whiskey |
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She soon is run down |
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Her body paraded |
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On a staff through the town |
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|
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A rag for her ceiling |
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The sod was her floor |
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She chose the cold open plain o'er |
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The dark workhouse door |
| [06:02.909] |
|
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With two broken wings |
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And feathers so brown |
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They come from all over |
| [06:24.227] |
To hunt the wren on the wide open ground |
