Michael Martin Murphey

Michael Martin Murphey - Streets of Laredo (Extended Version) lyrics

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The Streets of Laredo

(Bold Phelim Brady, The Bard of Armagh)

Oh, listen to the tale of the old Irish Harper

Scorn not the strains of his old withered hands

Remember those fingers, they once could move sharper

To raise up the strains of his dear native land

How I long to muse on the days of my boyhood

Four score and three years have fled by then

It’s a keen, sweet reflection, that every young joy,

For the merry hearted boys make the best of old men

At a faire, or a wake, I would twist my shillelagh

Dance through the fields with me brogues tied with straw

And all the pretty colleens around me would gather

And call me Bold Phelim Brady The Bard of Armagh

Then beat the drum slowly, play the fife lowly,

Play the dead march as you carry me along

Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me

I am Bold Phelim Brady a Brad of Armagh

And when Sergeant Death, in his cold arm’s embraces

Lull me to sleep with an Erin Go Bragh

By the side of sweet Kathleen, my dear bride o’ place me

And forget Phelim Brady the Bard of Armagh

For in truth, I have wandered this wide world over,

Yet Ireland’s my home and a blessing to me

And let the old sod that my old bones shall cover

Be the sod that is trod by the feet of the free.

And then beat a drum slowly, and play the fife lowly,

Play the dead march as you carry me along

Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me

I am Bold Phelim Brady a Bard of Armagh

As I walked out on the streets of Laredo

As I walked out in Laredo one day

I spied a young cowboy all dressed in white linen,

Wrapped up in white linen and cold as the clay

I see by your outfit that you are a cowboy

These words he did say as I boldly stepped by

Come sit down beside me and hear my sad story

I’m shot in the breast and I’m going to die

Then beat a drum slowly, and play the fife lowly

Play the dead march as you carry me along

Take me to the green valley, lay the sod o’er me

I’m a young cowboy and I know I’ve done wrong

Oh, once in the saddle, I used to go dashin’

Once in the saddle, I used to go gay

First to the dram house and then to the card house

I got shot in the breast and I’m dying today

Go gather around you a group of young cowboys

Tell them the story of this my sad fate

Tell one and the other, before they go further

Stop your wild rovin’ boys, before it’s too late.

And we beat a drum slowly, and we played the fife lowly

And we bitterly wept as we bore him along

We all loved our comrade, so brave, young and handsome

We all loved our comrade, although he’d done wrong.

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Thanks to Sorryroper

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