Karaoké The Foggy Dew The Young Dubliners

'Twas down the glen one

Easter morn

To a city fair rode I

Those armored lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by

No pipe did hum

No battle drum did sound its dread tattoo

But the Angelus bells o'er the Liffey swells rang out of the foggy dew

Uh

Right proudly high over Dublin town they hung out the flag of war

'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud el Bar

And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through

And while Brittania's Huns with their long-range guns sailed out o'er the foggy dew

'Twas England bade our wild geese fly that small nations might be free

Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves and the fringe of the great North Sea

Oh had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha

And sure their names we'd keep where the fenians sleep beneath the shroud of the foggy dew

Go

But the bravest fell as the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear

For those who died that Eastertide in the springtime of the year

And the world did gaze with deep amaze at those fearless men but few

Who bore the fight so that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew

Who bore the fight so that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew

Might shine through the foggy dew

Might shine through the foggy

Dew