The coalmine, song

Paddy McCallion, singing in English
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In an old blacksmith’s forge when the harvest was over
Five men sat and whispered so low
They talked about coal and where it was found
On their minds was this notion I know
There was Patton and Donnelly’s cheap mutton men
Alphonsus of cycling renown
McKenna the smith who said I think this is great
And Bryson from Ballyderowen

Now the next day was Sunday according to plan
The big five set out for the hill
Said McKenna and Cuffe it’s wonderful stuff
In a month’s time we’ll all be millionaires
When they got to the top to a place called Mallore
They were joined by a real mountain man
His moustache it was curly he looked awful burly
His name was McLaughlin Dan

Now Dan brought a shovel a pick and a shade
And Bryson he said this is fine
We’ll just go where you say and we’ll make no delay
And we’ll cut the first sod of the mine
After tramping for hours they sat down to rest
Every man hungry and dry
When Alphonsus produced a big bottle of milk
Says McKenna stout would go high

Now the heat of the day made them lazy to rise
No further they wanted to climb
When McKenna looked back saying boys don’t get slack
Sure it’s coal we want every time
Far away in the distance some black thing they spied
Says Patton we’re poor no more!
Dan let a roar saying hurrah for Mallore
And the boys that discovered the mine

But soon the hopes were all dashed to the ground
Alphonsus he nearly went blind
‘Twas a dirty old crow that was left lying low
They mistook it to be a coal mine
But not the least daunted they started to dig
And like pigs they kept snuggling the ground
Bryson took stock of each lump of rock
And Patton kept writing it down

As darkness was falling for home they got going
And with kiln-ribs their pockets did line
Saying if these fellows burn then we will return
With a grant for to open the mine
Early next morning the fire was lighted
And into it these bits they did throw
Says McKenna stand back when it started to crack
And right into the air it did go

The miners stood speechless not one of them spoke
Till Bryson at last broke the spell
Saying boys do not fret we have turf galore yet
Let the coal and the mine go to hell