A Broadside: No. 11 Fifth Year
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300 copies only.
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JOHN FRANCOIS
(Hilliard Chanty)
Boney was a warrior,
Away-i-oh;
Boney was a warrior,
John Francois.
Boney fought the Proosh-i-ans,
Away-i-oh;
Boney fought the Proosh-i-ans,
John Francois.
Boney fought the Roosh-i-ans,
Away-i-oh;
Boney fought the Roosh-i-ans,
John Francois.
Drive her, captain, drive her,
Away-i-oh;
Drive her, captain, drive her,
John Francois.
Give her the top-gallant sails,
Away-i-oh;
Give her the top-gallant sails,
John Francois.
It's a weary way to Baltimore,
Away-i-oh;
It's a weary way to Baltimore,
John Francois.
The drivers in the sunset race
Their coal-carts over cobble-stones:
Not draymen now but charioteers;
Their bags are left with Smith and Jones
They let the horses take their stride
Which toss their forelocks in their pride.
Nor green nor blue these faction wear
That make career o'er Dublin stones
But Pluto his own livery
Is what each whip-carrier owns.
The Caesar of the cab-rank I
Now bless the triumph hurtling by !
Eoin Mac Eoin.