作词 : Patterson Traditional Oh the old turf fire And the hearth swept clean There's no-one so contented as myself and Paddy Keane, The baby in the cradle, You can hear it's mammy say, Ah will you go to sleep alanna While I wet your daddy's tea. Now I've got a little house and land As neat as it can be, You'll never see the likes of it This side of Lisnakea. No piano in the corner And no pictures on the wall, But I'm happy and contented In my little cottage hall Now the man that I work for, Of noble blood is he, But somethin' I'll be tellin' you We never can agree He has big towering mansions, He has castles great and tall But I wouldn't change the roof that crowns My own cottage hall. Oh the old turf fire And the hearth swept clean There's no-one so contented as myself and Paddy Keane, The baby in the cradle, You can hear it's mammy say, Ah will you go to sleep alanna While I wet your daddy's tea. Round the old turf fire sit the old folk, bent with years, As they watch us trippin' lightly They're smilin' thro' their tears. So sadly they are dreaming Of their youthful heart's desire - In those dear old days so long ago Around the old turf fire.
作词 : Patterson Traditional Oh the old turf fire And the hearth swept clean There's no-one so contented as myself and Paddy Keane, The baby in the cradle, You can hear it's mammy say, Ah will you go to sleep alanna While I wet your daddy's tea. Now I've got a little house and land As neat as it can be, You'll never see the likes of it This side of Lisnakea. No piano in the corner And no pictures on the wall, But I'm happy and contented In my little cottage hall Now the man that I work for, Of noble blood is he, But somethin' I'll be tellin' you We never can agree He has big towering mansions, He has castles great and tall But I wouldn't change the roof that crowns My own cottage hall. Oh the old turf fire And the hearth swept clean There's no-one so contented as myself and Paddy Keane, The baby in the cradle, You can hear it's mammy say, Ah will you go to sleep alanna While I wet your daddy's tea. Round the old turf fire sit the old folk, bent with years, As they watch us trippin' lightly They're smilin' thro' their tears. So sadly they are dreaming Of their youthful heart's desire - In those dear old days so long ago Around the old turf fire.
