Bold Fenian Men - Traditional
		The middle song of the trio, this is the slow, tear-out-your-feckin'-heart ballad of the set. Raise a glass, lads, to the Bold Fenian Men! 'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman A'pluckin' young nettles, she ne'er saw me comin' I listened awhile to the song she was hummin': "Glory o, glory o to the bold fenian men. When I was a young girl, their marching and drilling Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrilling They loved dear old Ireland, and to die, they were willing Glory o, glory o to the bold Fenian men. Some died in the glenside, some died mid the stranger, And wise men have told us their cause was a failure But they loved poor old Ireland, and ne'er feared danger Glory o, glory o to the bold Fenian men. 'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming On strong manly forms or on eyes with hope gleaming I see them again, sure, through all my sad dreaming Glory o, glory o to the bold Fenian men." I went on my way, God be praised that I met her Be life long or short I will never forget her We may have good men but we'll never have better... Glory o, glory o to the bold Fenian men! Arrangement: Amberhawke Backup Vocals: Linda King and Sean Morse Guitar: Linda King Bass: Sean Morse
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