Lift MacCahir Og your face, you're brooding o'er the old disgrace
And then Fitz William stormed your place, he sent you to the Fern
Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he'd secure
Until he met at Glenmalure with Feach MacHugh O'Byrne.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Feach will do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword on we'll go for by the lord
Feach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow.
See the swords of Glen Imayle, they flash all o'er the English pale
See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of the fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock
crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and we'll teach him manners.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Feach will do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword on we'll go for by the lord
Feach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow.
From Tassagart to Clonmore, there flows a stream of Saxon gore
And great is Rory Oge O'More, at sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Grey is fled, now for black FitzWilliam's head
We'll send it over, dripping red, to Liza and her ladies.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Feach will do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword on we'll go for by the lord
Feach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow.
(c) Folkaholics (traditional)
