As an Irishman, I am intimately familiar with this song - I've heard it at every type of sporting occasion, and even sung it on stage. Even so, I post it not so much because today is St. Patrick's Day, but to mark the loss of it's author this past weekend.
| Fields of Athenry | |
| By a lonely prison wall | |
| I heard a young girl calling | |
| Michael, they have taken you away | |
| For you stole Trevelyan's corn | |
| So the young might see the morn | |
| Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay | |
| Chorus: | |
| Low lie the fields of Athenry | |
| Where once we watched the small free birds fly | |
| Our love was on the wing we had dreams and songs to sing | |
| It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry | |
| By a lonely prison wall | |
| I heard a young man calling | |
| Nothing matters, Mary, when you're free | |
| Against the famine and the crown | |
| I rebelled, they cut me down | |
| Now you must raise our child with dignity | |
| Chorus | |
| By a lonely harbour wall | |
| She watched the last star falling | |
| As that prison ship sailed out against the sky | |
| For she lived in hope and pray | |
| For her love in Botany Bay | |
| It's so lonely 'round the fields of Athenry | |
| Chorus |
