"Galway Bay"

No personal notes.

Wikipedia claims that "Galway Bay" is the name of two different songs, but there is at least one (additional) fiddle tune by that name (see the Fiddler's Companion link) and in Cape Breton 'the Rakes of Kildare' is known as the 'Galway Bay Jig'.... The first song (My Own Dear Galway Bay) is 'traditionally more popular and known in the Galway Bay area'. The second song is (according to wikipedia) more popular outside of Ireland, and it is this one we describe here.

This song was written by Dr. Arthur Colohan in Leicester in 1947 and was popularised by Bing Crosby. Crosby changed some of the lyrics so as to be less political and it became a huge hit around the world with Irish emigrants. The copyright of this version is held by Box and Cox Publications of London. A humorous version was created by The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem. A reference of note to Colohan's song is in The Pogues' "Fairytale of New York".

Galway Bay
(Colohan)

If[D] you ever go across the sea to[A] Ireland,
It may be at the[A7] dawning of the[D] day,
You will sit and watch the moon rise over[Em] Claddagh,
And watch the[A7] sun go down on Galway[D] bay.
[2]
Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream
The women in the meadow making hay,
And to sit beside the turf fire in a cabin,
And watch the bare-foot gossoons as they play,
[3]
For the breezes blowing over the sea's from Ireland,
Are perfumed by the heather as it blows,
And the women in the uplands diggin' praties,
Speak a language that strangers do not know,
[4]
For the English* came and tried to teach us their ways,
They scorned us just for being what we are,
But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams,
Or light a penny candle from a star.
[5]
And if there is going to be a life hereafter,
And somehow I am sure there's going to be,
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea. 

*the original... Bing Crosby popularised the more pc 'strangers'

(Alternate Lyrics - (Clancy Brothers?))

Oh, it's maybe someday I'll go back to Ireland,
if my dear old wife would only pass away.
for she's nearly driven me mad with her naggin',
and she's got a mouth as big as Galway Bay.

When she's drinkin' 16 pints down at Paddy Murphy's,
and the barman says,"I think it's time to go."
Well she doesn't seem to answer him in Gaelic,
but a language that the clergy does not know.

When she drinks her 16 pints of Pabst Blue Ribbon,
you know she can't walk home without a sway.
If the sea was beer instead of salty water,
I'm sure she'd live and die in Galway Bay.

On her back there is tatooed the map of Ireland,
and when she takes her bath on Saturday,
she rubs that Sunlight soap down around by Claddagh,
just to watch the suds roll down by Galway Bay.