Ireland's pain, America's call

All is death no more hope to be found,

heart ache's and sorrows lament,

a failing crop rots in the ground

what little money is all spent.
 

The day is blacker than the night,

and hunger and death raise their voice,

no help to aid in this plight,

and broken will's removed of choice.
 

There is nothing left but to flee,

and to cry alas, alas,

beseech our God upon bended knee's,

and sail to the America's.
 

With new vision and new hope,

a new life for us to make,

for there are many that cannot cope,

and loved one's we must forsake.
 

What say ye Molly, what say ye Jack

shall we leave, and take our chances,

for to stay is folly, and full of lack,

as a new horizon advances.
 

Give us your needy, give us soup and bread,

un to us a new begining give,

for all that was dear, is buried and dead,

give us hope that we might live.
 

It will take the sands of time,

for every tear to be wiped away,

and free us from our crime,

of the debt we have to pay.
 

There's talk of money, there's talk of land,

and warmth, instead of cold,

there's talk of the madness of the grand,

bewitched by pot of gold.
 

Is this the begining, or the end?

shall we stand, or shall we fall,

for our lives again to mend,

as we answer America's call.


Big Alzer.