From the recording ANIAR

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Come Back Paddy Reilly to Balllyjamesduff

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Come back Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff .

This is an instrumental version of the great song by Percy French (1 May 1854 – 24 January 1920). I recorded the song on my CD The legacy of Percy French in 2015 and you can hear it on my website.

Lyrics

Come back Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff


The Garden of Eden has vanished they say
But I know the lie of it still
Just turn to the left at the bridge of Finea
And stop when halfway to Cootehill
‘Tis there I will find it, I know sure enough
When fortune has come to my call
Oh the grass it is green around Ballyjamesduff
And the blue sky is over it all
And tones that are tender and tones that are gruff
Are whispering over the sea
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me

My mother once told me that when I was born
The day that I first saw the light
I looked down the street on that very first morn
And gave a great crow of delight
Now most newborn babies appear in a huff
And start with a sorrowful squall
But I knew I was born in Ballyjamesduff
And that’s why I smiled on them all
The baby’s a man, now he’s toil-worn and tough
Still, whispers come over the sea
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me

The night that we danced by the light of the moon
With Phil to the fore with his flute
When Phil threw his lip over ‘Come Again Soon’
He’s dance the foot out o’ yer boot
The day that I took long Magee by the scruff
For slandering Rosie Kilrain
Then, marching him straight out of Ballyjamesduff
Assisting him into a drain
Oh, sweet are the dreams as the dudeen I puff
Of whisperings over the sea
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me

I’ve loved all the ladies of every land
That always came easy to me
I loved the girls Black-a-moor brand
And the chocolate shapes of Figi
But that sort of love is a moon-shiny stuff
forever t'will addle me brain
For the bells will be ringing in Ballyjamesduff
For me and me Rosie Kilrain
Times might get hard, boring or tuff
but the whispers comes over the sea
Come back, Paddy Reilly to Ballyjamesduff
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me