The Sons of Liberty



On the fifteenth day of June, brave boys

At the dawning of the day,

Our gallant ship, the Lancet

Did land in York Bay.

Our sheets was wet and loggy

And we spread them broad to dry

The Irish heroes landed,

But the Lord knows who's to die.



The French, the Dutch, the Spanish

They must cruelly hunted be,

They poured in the drop shot

With more barbarity;

They poured in the drop shot

And our men they got away.

Wasn't that a sad exception

To the North Amerikee ?

Our wives at home a-weeping

Most melancholy cry,

A-mourning for their husbands

Lying all in their graves;

And children crying: 'Mother,

We'll never rue the day

That we came to lose our fathers

In the North Amerikee.



Now to conclude my ditty

And to end my moumful song:

Success to Andrew Jackson,

And God bless George Washington.

God prosper and protect them both

On the land or on the sea.

Success to all those knighted men

And the Sons of Liberty.



see also SONSLIB1

from English Folk Somgs from the Appalachian Mountains, Sharp

Collected from Mrs. William Wooton, Hindman, KY, 1917

@America @Irish @Revolution @war

filename[ SONSLIB2

play.exe SONSLIB2

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