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\selectlanguage{english}
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\songcolumns{2}
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\beginsong{Kilkelly, Ireland}[by=Steven and Peter Jones]
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\beginverse
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\[Em]Kilkelly, Ireland, \[G]18 and 60, my \[D]dear and loving son \[Em]John
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Your good friend the schoolmaster \[G]Pat McNamara's
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so \[D]good as to write these words \[Em]down.
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Your \[G]brothers have all gone to \[D]find work in England,
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the \[C]house is so empty and \[D]sad \[B7]~
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The \[Em]crop of potatoes is \[G]sorely infected,
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a \[D]third to a half of them \[Em]bad.
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And your \[G]sister Brigid and \[D]Patrick O'Donnell
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are \[C]going to be married in \[D]June. \[B7]~
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Your \[Em]mother says not to \[G]work on the railroad
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and \[D]be sure to come on \[Em]home soon.
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\endverse
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\beginverse
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 70, dear and loving son John
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Hello to your Mrs and to your 4 children,
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may they grow healthy and strong.
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Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
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I guess that he never will learn.
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Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of
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and now we have nothing to burn.
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And Brigid is happy, you named a child for her
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and now she's got six of her own.
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You say you found work, but you don't say
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what kind or when you will be coming home.
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\endverse
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\beginverse
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 80, dear Michael and John, my sons
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I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
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that your dear old mother has gone.
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We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
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your brothers and Brigid were there.
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You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
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remember her in your prayers.
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And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
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with money he's sure to buy land
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For the crop has been poor and the people
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are selling at any price that they can.
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\endverse
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\beginverse
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 90, my dear and loving son John
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I guess that I must be close on to eighty,
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it's thirty years since you're gone.
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Because of all of the money you send me,
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I'm still living out on my own.
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Michael has built himself a fine house
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and Brigid's daughters have grown.
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Thank you for sending your family picture,
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they're lovely young women and men.
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You say that you might even come for a visit,
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what joy to see you again.
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\endverse
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\beginverse
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Kilkelly, Ireland, 18 and 92, my dear brother John
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I'm sorry that I didn't write sooner to tell you that father passed on.
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He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful
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and healthy right down to the end.
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Ah, you should have seen him play with
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the grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend.
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And we buried him alongside of mother,
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down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
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He was a strong and a feisty old man,
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considering his life was so hard.
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And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
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he called for you in the end.
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Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,
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we'd all love to see you again.
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\endverse
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\endsong
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