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Click hereAn Irish ballad.
I heard it in a Road house friend,
In Boston Town you know.
About a lovely sweet young thing,
Wild Irish Rosie Jo.
Her lovely eyes are Kelly Green,
Her hair's a yellow-gold.
She comes from Northern Ire-land,
My pretty Rosie Jo.
Bridge.
Oh Ire-land my Ire-land,
You mean so much to me!
Your green green hills and Heather there,
And stormy Irish Sea!
I've left the sod of Ire-land,
To fight for Irish "Dreams."
A war where Ireland's sons are killed,
We war against the King!
Her breath is fresh like Springtime air,
Her body's like a fairy!
Her lips so red her skin so fair,
Around her all men tarry.
Oh Rosie Jo my sweet sweet Rose,
You're such a Darling girl.
Oh sweet sweet Rosie, Rosie Jo,
You make my poor heart whirl!
Now Rosie Jo my sweet young Lass,
She's pure and sweet and fine.
She waits at home for me you see,
Because you know she's mine!
She waits in Northern Ire-land,
So patiently alone.
She's waiting for her Danny boy,
To carry himself home.
But here I am gone off to war,
And think I'll never more,
See my precious Rosie Jo,
Or hold her any more.
This war is claiming Irish sons,
And I can't hardly stand.
The thought of no more Shamrock Green,
And no more Ire-land's!!