Over The Wall Lyrics And Chords
Over The Wall is an Irish ballad about a prison escape.
Recorded by The Dublin City Ramblers about the prison escape of Crumlin Road jail in Belfast Ireland. Another song on the site about prison escapes is Nineteen Men Song about Portlaoise prison escape.
In [G] Crumlin Road jail the [C] prisoners one day
Took [D] out a football and [G] started to play
And while all the warders were [C] watching the ball
[D] Nine of the prisoners jumped [C] over the [G] wall
[chorus]
Over the wall, over the wall
Who could believe they jumped over the wall
Over the wall, over the wall
It's hard to believe they jumped over the wall
Now the warders looked on with the greatest surprise
And the sight that they saw brought the tears to their eyes
For one of the teams was not there at all
They all got transferred and jumped over the wall
Now the governor's came down with his face in a twist
Said, "Line up these lads while I check out me list"
But nine of the lads didn't answer the call
And the warder said," Please, sir they're over the wall."
The security forces were shook to the core
So they barred every window and bolted each door
But all of their precautions were no use at all
For another three prisoners jumped over the wall
When the news reached old Stormont Faulkner turned pale
When he heard that more men had escaped from his jail.
Said he," Now we'll have an enquiry to call
And we'll get Edmund Compton to whitewash the wall."
Recorded by The Dublin City Ramblers about the prison escape of Crumlin Road jail in Belfast Ireland. Another song on the site about prison escapes is Nineteen Men Song about Portlaoise prison escape.
In [G] Crumlin Road jail the [C] prisoners one day
Took [D] out a football and [G] started to play
And while all the warders were [C] watching the ball
[D] Nine of the prisoners jumped [C] over the [G] wall
[chorus]
Over the wall, over the wall
Who could believe they jumped over the wall
Over the wall, over the wall
It's hard to believe they jumped over the wall
Now the warders looked on with the greatest surprise
And the sight that they saw brought the tears to their eyes
For one of the teams was not there at all
They all got transferred and jumped over the wall
Now the governor's came down with his face in a twist
Said, "Line up these lads while I check out me list"
But nine of the lads didn't answer the call
And the warder said," Please, sir they're over the wall."
The security forces were shook to the core
So they barred every window and bolted each door
But all of their precautions were no use at all
For another three prisoners jumped over the wall
When the news reached old Stormont Faulkner turned pale
When he heard that more men had escaped from his jail.
Said he," Now we'll have an enquiry to call
And we'll get Edmund Compton to whitewash the wall."
Alternative guitar chords for the key of D Major.
In [D] Crumlin Road jail the [G] prisoners one day
Took [A] out a football and [D] started to play
And while all the warders were [G] watching the ball
[A] Nine of the prisoners jumped [G] over the [D] wall
In [D] Crumlin Road jail the [G] prisoners one day
Took [A] out a football and [D] started to play
And while all the warders were [G] watching the ball
[A] Nine of the prisoners jumped [G] over the [D] wall
A jailbreak tale told with the kind of cheeky Irish swagger that makes you want to grin, clap, and maybe question the architectural standards of Crumlin Road Jail altogether. Let me spin it with proper Irish mischief and slang:
This song tells of a day in Crumlin Road Jail when the prisoners, bless their athletic souls, took out a football — not to pass the time, mind you,
but as a distraction worthy of Ocean’s Eleven with a Belfast accent.
While the warders were standing there, watching the match like they were at Old Trafford,
nine of the lads casually hopped the wall
like they were just stepping out for a smoke.
Chorus in spirit:
“Over the wall --
Ah go on, you can’t be serious --
Over the wall!”
Because yes, they actually did — the craic was ninety and the security was zero.
When the guards realized one entire team had vanished,
Tears in their eyes — partially from shock, partially from embarrassment --
they had to accept that half the team had “self–transferred”
to… well… anywhere not inside.
Then the governor arrives, face like thunder,
looking as if someone told him the bar was dry.
“Line them up!” he says --
but nine lads didn’t answer.
Why?
Because nine lads were already halfway down the Falls Road with big smiles and fresh air in their lungs.
The security forces panicked and locked the place up
like a nun’s purse at a disco --
windows barred, doors bolted --
they probably even checked under the mattresses and behind the holy water.
But lo and behold --
another three lads launched themselves over the wall again!
At this point the wall was less a prison barrier
and more of a mild suggestion.
When word reached Stormont, Faulkner went white as a ghost --
probably spilled his tea and everything.
So he announced an investigation,
promising accountability and truth --
which in political terms means:
“We’ll get someone in to make it sound like nothing happened.”
So Edmund Compton was called --
and his job was not to fix the wall,
but to whitewash it,
metaphorically and literally --
because in Ireland,
if you can’t solve a problem,
you write a report and pretend everything is grand.
In summary:
It’s a cheeky, bold, rebel-tinged song of daring escape,
Irish ingenuity,
and prison security so poor
you’d wonder if the wall was sponsored by Cadbury Flake.
A mighty bit of craic altogether!
This song tells of a day in Crumlin Road Jail when the prisoners, bless their athletic souls, took out a football — not to pass the time, mind you,
but as a distraction worthy of Ocean’s Eleven with a Belfast accent.
While the warders were standing there, watching the match like they were at Old Trafford,
nine of the lads casually hopped the wall
like they were just stepping out for a smoke.
Chorus in spirit:
“Over the wall --
Ah go on, you can’t be serious --
Over the wall!”
Because yes, they actually did — the craic was ninety and the security was zero.
When the guards realized one entire team had vanished,
Tears in their eyes — partially from shock, partially from embarrassment --
they had to accept that half the team had “self–transferred”
to… well… anywhere not inside.
Then the governor arrives, face like thunder,
looking as if someone told him the bar was dry.
“Line them up!” he says --
but nine lads didn’t answer.
Why?
Because nine lads were already halfway down the Falls Road with big smiles and fresh air in their lungs.
The security forces panicked and locked the place up
like a nun’s purse at a disco --
windows barred, doors bolted --
they probably even checked under the mattresses and behind the holy water.
But lo and behold --
another three lads launched themselves over the wall again!
At this point the wall was less a prison barrier
and more of a mild suggestion.
When word reached Stormont, Faulkner went white as a ghost --
probably spilled his tea and everything.
So he announced an investigation,
promising accountability and truth --
which in political terms means:
“We’ll get someone in to make it sound like nothing happened.”
So Edmund Compton was called --
and his job was not to fix the wall,
but to whitewash it,
metaphorically and literally --
because in Ireland,
if you can’t solve a problem,
you write a report and pretend everything is grand.
In summary:
It’s a cheeky, bold, rebel-tinged song of daring escape,
Irish ingenuity,
and prison security so poor
you’d wonder if the wall was sponsored by Cadbury Flake.
A mighty bit of craic altogether!
