Lift MacCahir Og your face You're brooding o'er you're old disgrace That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, He sent you to the Fern. Grey said victory was sure Soon the firebrand he'd secure; Until he met at Glenmalure With Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne. Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow. From Tassagart to Clonmore, There flows a stream of Saxon gore Oh, great is Rory Oge O'More, At sending loons to Hades. White is sick and Grey is fled, And now for black FitzWilliam's head We'll send it over, dripping red, To Liza and her ladies. Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow. Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow. See the swords of Glen Imayle, They flash all o'er the English pale, See all the children of the Gael, Beneath O'Byrne's banners Rooster of the fighting stock, Would you let a Saxon cock Crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and we'll teach him manners. Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow. Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare Now FitzWilliam, have a care Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword On we'll go for by the lord Fiach MacHugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow.
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