Autobiography Of A Navvy Song Lyrics
Written by Patrick O'Sullivan.
This song pays homage to Patrick MacGill and is one of the songs used in the stage play Irish Night. This is one of many sad songs about emigration on this site. The first time I read the lyrics it reminded me of two other fine songs written about men working on building sites in England. The first is Paddy By Gerry Carney where the building worker is also from Cork and the other one is The Reason I Left Mullingar by The Fureys. Emigration has being the biggest scurge in our country since the 1940s and is still our biggest export. So if anybody ever asks what is Ireland's greatest export ? you'll be able to answer, it's it's people.
There's no great wisdom in the song I sing,
but I know enough to know this one thing:
a man's no man unless he can work
and there's no work for a man in County Cork.
I kissed my mother and put on my coat,
I went to Dublin and got on the boat.
Now I know enough to know I'm a fool,
for I ended up on the lump in Liverpool.
In a greasy cafe I buy my grub,
my friends I buy with a drink in a pub.
Like a pick and shovel I am bought and sold,
I'm the subby's man and I am not my own.
I miss my family, but we're not in touch,
I pray too little and I drink too much.
My face is bold, but my heart is cold,
and who will care for me when I am old?
I think the Irish are a cursed race,
I think they'll vanish and not leave a trace.
From east to west and from pole to pole
they work on every man's land, but not their own
This song pays homage to Patrick MacGill and is one of the songs used in the stage play Irish Night. This is one of many sad songs about emigration on this site. The first time I read the lyrics it reminded me of two other fine songs written about men working on building sites in England. The first is Paddy By Gerry Carney where the building worker is also from Cork and the other one is The Reason I Left Mullingar by The Fureys. Emigration has being the biggest scurge in our country since the 1940s and is still our biggest export. So if anybody ever asks what is Ireland's greatest export ? you'll be able to answer, it's it's people.
There's no great wisdom in the song I sing,
but I know enough to know this one thing:
a man's no man unless he can work
and there's no work for a man in County Cork.
I kissed my mother and put on my coat,
I went to Dublin and got on the boat.
Now I know enough to know I'm a fool,
for I ended up on the lump in Liverpool.
In a greasy cafe I buy my grub,
my friends I buy with a drink in a pub.
Like a pick and shovel I am bought and sold,
I'm the subby's man and I am not my own.
I miss my family, but we're not in touch,
I pray too little and I drink too much.
My face is bold, but my heart is cold,
and who will care for me when I am old?
I think the Irish are a cursed race,
I think they'll vanish and not leave a trace.
From east to west and from pole to pole
they work on every man's land, but not their own