During the 1840s, America was so unthinkably remote that many Irish families considered their emigrant relatives to be as good as dead. They mourned with an American Wake.
Brand new old songs of the '30s, '40s, '50s and '60s.
Lyrics
American Wake
The clocks are stopped at our house, the mirrors turned to face the wall
The chairs are set the table ‘round, the keeners come to call
And the ladies with their rosaries
All veiled and dressed in black
Tonight we mourn our last born
Jimmy’s gone now, and he’ll ne’er come back.
His bosom friends will be thereby, and his loving family so
His brothers and his sisters cry for to see their Jimmy go
Come down, come down to Crockets Town
One long last leave to take
He’s bound away for Americay
It’s our Jimmy’s American wake.
America is a fine land, fair and brave and strong
Many a bold rambunctious lad must heed her siren song
The golden youth of Ireland
Pave her golden streets
To a mother’s dread, they’re good as dead
When the coffin ship retreats.
For all the joy he brought our home, we hold our glasses high
For all the joy we’ll never know, we hold our heads and cry
We mourn the loss of the boy he was
And the man we pray he’ll be
For a mother’s grief knows no relief
With her baby far across the sea.
Come down, come down to Crockets Town, he’s gone to the Golden Door
Tonight we mourn our own dear son, tomorrow we’ll be mourning yours
Come down, come down to Crockets Town
Come for his mother’s sake
For her pride and joy, her baby boy
For our Jimmy’s American wake.
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