The Man From The Daily Mail lyrics and chords
The original song '' The Man From The Daily Mail'' was written by Seán Ó Cathasaigh / Seán O'Casey and first published in 1918 . The song gives his account of Ireland at the time. The other version by Fintan Valley which uses the same tune is about when R.T.E reporters arrived in Ballinamore to do a story about the missing race horse ''Shergar'' for the Today Tonight programme. The horse was kidnapped by I.R.A and which was owned by the Aga Khan. No ransom was ever paid and the horse was never found. The video is by The Irish Brigade who changes some words of the original song. The sheet music is included.
Song Meaning.
"The Man From The Daily Mail" is a satirical Irish folk song that humorously critiques British media coverage of Irish culture, politics, and society. The song is typically sung with irony and wit, poking fun at how newspapers, particularly the British tabloid The Daily Mail, often depicted Ireland in exaggerated or inaccurate ways.
1. Satire of British Media
The song is a sharp parody of how The Daily Mail and similar publications sensationalized stories about Ireland, often portraying the Irish as backward, superstitious, or prone to violence.
It reflects Irish frustrations with media bias and the tendency to reduce complex social and political issues to simple stereotypes.
2. Humor and Exaggeration
The lyrics humorously exaggerate common misrepresentations. They often depict a clueless journalist arriving in Ireland and completely misunderstanding Irish life, capturing absurd and comical scenarios to highlight the media’s ignorance.
3. Cultural and National Identity
The song expresses Irish pride by flipping the narrative. By using humor and satire, it reclaims control over how Irish culture is depicted and mocks those who misunderstand or misrepresent it.
4. Political Undertones
Although the song is primarily humorous, it also carries political undertones. It addresses the historical tensions between Ireland and Britain, especially regarding how the British viewed Irish independence movements, social issues, and cultural traditions.
5. Folk Tradition
Songs like "The Man From The Daily Mail" are part of a long-standing Irish folk tradition of using music to respond to societal issues and injustices. Humor and satire have always been tools for expressing resistance and solidarity.
In essence, "The Man From The Daily Mail" is a clever, satirical take on media misrepresentation, using humor to address deeper themes of cultural pride, misunderstanding, and historical tensions between Ireland and Britain.
Song Meaning.
"The Man From The Daily Mail" is a satirical Irish folk song that humorously critiques British media coverage of Irish culture, politics, and society. The song is typically sung with irony and wit, poking fun at how newspapers, particularly the British tabloid The Daily Mail, often depicted Ireland in exaggerated or inaccurate ways.
1. Satire of British Media
The song is a sharp parody of how The Daily Mail and similar publications sensationalized stories about Ireland, often portraying the Irish as backward, superstitious, or prone to violence.
It reflects Irish frustrations with media bias and the tendency to reduce complex social and political issues to simple stereotypes.
2. Humor and Exaggeration
The lyrics humorously exaggerate common misrepresentations. They often depict a clueless journalist arriving in Ireland and completely misunderstanding Irish life, capturing absurd and comical scenarios to highlight the media’s ignorance.
3. Cultural and National Identity
The song expresses Irish pride by flipping the narrative. By using humor and satire, it reclaims control over how Irish culture is depicted and mocks those who misunderstand or misrepresent it.
4. Political Undertones
Although the song is primarily humorous, it also carries political undertones. It addresses the historical tensions between Ireland and Britain, especially regarding how the British viewed Irish independence movements, social issues, and cultural traditions.
5. Folk Tradition
Songs like "The Man From The Daily Mail" are part of a long-standing Irish folk tradition of using music to respond to societal issues and injustices. Humor and satire have always been tools for expressing resistance and solidarity.
In essence, "The Man From The Daily Mail" is a clever, satirical take on media misrepresentation, using humor to address deeper themes of cultural pride, misunderstanding, and historical tensions between Ireland and Britain.
The Man From The Daily Mail Lyrics
Now Ireland's a very funny place, sir
It's a strange and a troubled land
And the Irish are a very funny race, sir
Every girl's in the Cumann na mBan
Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon
Tied firmly to its tail
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Now the other day I travelled down to Clare, sir
I spied in an old boreen
A bunch of busy gooses there, sir
Dressed in orange, white and green
They marched to the German goose step
As they whistled Grann na bheal
and I'm shakin' in me shoes
As I'm sending out the news
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Now the whole place is seething with sedition
It's Sinn Fein through and through
All the peelers they are joining local units
And the password's Sinn Fein too
Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon
Tied firmly to its tail
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Now Ireland's a very funny place, sir
It's a strange and a troubled land
And the Irish are a very funny race, sir
Every girl's in the Cumann na mBan
Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon
Tied firmly to its tail
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Now the other day I travelled down to Clare, sir
I spied in an old boreen
A bunch of busy gooses there, sir
Dressed in orange, white and green
They marched to the German goose step
As they whistled Grann na bheal
and I'm shakin' in me shoes
As I'm sending out the news
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Now the whole place is seething with sedition
It's Sinn Fein through and through
All the peelers they are joining local units
And the password's Sinn Fein too
Every doggie wears a tri-coloured ribbon
Tied firmly to its tail
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
Every bird upon my word
Is singing treble - I'm a rebel
Every hen it's said is laying hand grenades
Over there sir, I declare Sir
And every cock in the farmyard
Stock crows in triumph for the Gael
And it wouldn't be surprising
If there'd be another rising
Said the man from the Daily Mail
[D]Leitrim is a very funny place, sir, a [G]strange and troubled [D]land.
All[D] the boys are in the IRA, sir, all the [G]women in Cumann na [A]mBan.
Every [D]tractor has a Nicky Kelly sticker, dis[G]played for all to [D]see.
Sure it was no [G]wonder that the Gardaí made a [D]blunder,'
Says your man from[A] RT[D]E.
CHORUS:
'[D]Every bird, upon my word, is singing, "I'm a [Bm]rebel," sir up in Mohill sir,
Every [D]hen is laying hand grenades, I do [A]declare, sir, in Droma[D]hair, sir.
Every [G]crock of a Leitrim [D]cock is [G]longing to be[D] free.
Even [G]sheep are ad[D]visin' there'll [G]be another [A]rising'.
Says your man from[A] RT[D]E.
'Today Tonight went to Ballinamore, sir, they were briefed by the Gardaí.
On a video they showed to me the Provies 'ating curry and drinkin' tea.
They were all wearin' Russian balaclavas, each carried an RPG.
British scalps around the tummy, pockets full of stolen money'.
Says your man from RTE.
Chorus:
Leitrim is seething with sedition, it's Sinn Fein through and through.
All the task force have joined the local unit, the post office is the GHQ.
They've a racetrack underground for training Shergar, "no commint" they say to me.
Subversion here is bubblin', oh please take me back to Dublin,
Says your man from RTE.
All[D] the boys are in the IRA, sir, all the [G]women in Cumann na [A]mBan.
Every [D]tractor has a Nicky Kelly sticker, dis[G]played for all to [D]see.
Sure it was no [G]wonder that the Gardaí made a [D]blunder,'
Says your man from[A] RT[D]E.
CHORUS:
'[D]Every bird, upon my word, is singing, "I'm a [Bm]rebel," sir up in Mohill sir,
Every [D]hen is laying hand grenades, I do [A]declare, sir, in Droma[D]hair, sir.
Every [G]crock of a Leitrim [D]cock is [G]longing to be[D] free.
Even [G]sheep are ad[D]visin' there'll [G]be another [A]rising'.
Says your man from[A] RT[D]E.
'Today Tonight went to Ballinamore, sir, they were briefed by the Gardaí.
On a video they showed to me the Provies 'ating curry and drinkin' tea.
They were all wearin' Russian balaclavas, each carried an RPG.
British scalps around the tummy, pockets full of stolen money'.
Says your man from RTE.
Chorus:
Leitrim is seething with sedition, it's Sinn Fein through and through.
All the task force have joined the local unit, the post office is the GHQ.
They've a racetrack underground for training Shergar, "no commint" they say to me.
Subversion here is bubblin', oh please take me back to Dublin,
Says your man from RTE.
The Sheet Music Notes. Which is actually ''Darling Girl From Clare'' by Percy French.
