Matt Connelly was a mainstay of Irish music in America for many years, encouraging and helping many more famous musicians and groups. His daughter Deirdre has followed in his footsteps, singing with Cherish The Ladies and other groups.
She created a CD with her father and one of the songs on the album was this one.
Like many Irish songs, there are multiple versions, but my favorite is the one Deirdre and Matt recorded.
Some of the lyrics seem to be known only to the Connellys and Deirdre very graciously sent them to me when I could not find them elsewhere.
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Until I can fit video to the music, enjoy this.
(Thank you, Deirdre and Matt)
Welcome Poor Paddy Home
Well here I am an Irish man
And an Irish man I’ll never deny
For they say I was born in Tipperary, boys,
Three thousand miles away.
I was always hale and hearty
No matter where that I would be
I was forced to leave auld Ireland
And sail far o’er the sea
Chorus:
Hurray me boys hurray.
No more do I wish for to roam,
For the sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome poor Paddy home.
Do you mind the old thatched cabin
That stands at the side of the hill
There’s money in store, there’s whiskey galore
An auld stranger he might have his fill
In comes a far away nation
And scattered all over the land
The horse and the plough, the pig and the sow
All fell into the strangers’ hands.
Chorus:
Hurray me boys hurray.
No more do I wish for to roam,
For the sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome poor Paddy home.
Now the Scotch man, he boasts of his thistle
The Englishman boasts of his rose
But Paddy he boasts of his own native land
Where the dear little shamrock grows.
Where the girls are gay and frisky
They’ll all take you by the hand
Saying ah Gra Mo Chroi, come along with me
You’re welcome to Ireland
Chorus:
Hurray me boys hurray.
No more do I wish for to roam,
For the sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome poor Paddy home.
I am a true born Irish man,
Of that I will never deny
I was born in the sweet Tipperary boys
Three thousand miles away.
Chorus: (2)
Hurray me boys hurray.
No more do I wish for to roam,
For the sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome poor Paddy home.
For the sun it will shine in the harvest time
To welcome poor Paddy home.