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The Tyburn Jig (Live)
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A rough 'n' ready live recording from an early gig. This song is very typical of our work and features a guitar solo from our very own Rupert Noise.
punk band folk manchester flogging molly pogues dropkick murphys wake finnegans
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A mixture of Irish Folk influece and old school and new wave punk. It's Punk with a fiddle!
Throw together a singing activist, a bass tapping medic, a lead guitarist called Rupert and a fiddling Philosopher? It can only be Finnegan's Wake! A hybrid of Irish Folk and rip-roaring punk music results in good music, good times, a good message and a hell of a lot of fun. We double dare you not to tap your feet! We're: Al Baker - Vocals/Acoustic Guitar Rupert Noise - Lead Guitar Andy "Mini" Cav - Bass The Rt. Hon. Sir James Kemp III - Fiddle And We're Finnegan's Wake!
Song Info
Genre
Alternative • Pop Punk
Charts
Peak #164
Peak in subgenre #13
Author
Alex Baker-Graham
Rights
Finnegans Wake
Uploaded
May 23, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
I wrote this song after the re-election of George W. Bush. What seems like a very strong political message is, but it is also a personal "I hate you" from me to he, not forgetting the other tools of his administration. Tyburn was a place in London where they would hang criminals up until the 19th century and the will of the song is that Dubya is fit for nothing but to dance his own Tyburn Jig.
Lyrics
The Tyburn Jig We made you We can break you A following of fat ones full of lies How can You think we’ll save you When you can’t even look us in the eye Men with philosophies Of war and brutality Will make their people weak, Their empires strong Your conscience must be clean As the scarlet on your sleeves I double dare you coward, prove me wrong. Whoa You’re a liar and a fool Whoa You’re treacherous and cruel Whoa You’ve murder on your head We won’t rest Until you and your pets Are all dancin’ the Tyburn Jig How dare you, Speak of your virtue, If thousands upon thousands have to die. Nothing Is quite that simple, Bollocks, its as simple as a lie. Weapons of defense, All at your expense. The patriots are turning in their graves. Freedom to ignore, The disenfranchised and the poor, Even Jesus couldn’t let that soul be saved Screaming in our millions Ignored, bastardised across the sea. Think we adore you? Well I implore you, Set my people free! SOLO CHORUS Our eyes, Can see the sunrise, Our hearts and minds will roar with discontent Four more years Of misery and tears For poor bastards who you claim to represent Justice may prevail, Or we may wind up in jail, I may be in a crowd or stand alone, But I’ll say one thing for free, Oh you’ll never get ‘round me, I’ll always hate you to your bloody bones. CHORUS
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