"Workers Song" lyrics

The last lord was left livin' in his manor house so grand
The empire had forgotten him, and other strife they found
He hadn't got a shillin' now to fill his little hand
He hadn't got a maid or cook or Paddy to command

The roof atop the west-wing fell, he had to lock the door
The rats all chewed the wires so the lightbulbs lit no more
Green mould climbed up the inside wall, green ivy out the front
Each time he tried to shut the door, he did it with a grunt

At the bottom room he lay awake, and struggled for a wink
The wind blew in the chimney and the drippin' of a sink
He feared the story of the ones who started on their hunt
Inside his den he questioned then, "What do the Paddy's want?"

The rats must all be Fenian now, it must be Irish rain
That split in two the banner blue, protecting English claim
The wind must be from Gráinne Mhaol blowing out her roar
To tell the wealthy Saxon they're not welcome anymore

No landlord here in Ireland is the song that I will sing
Run them out or burn them out, whatever is your thing
No time now for the wealthy ones who try to put us down
Break the greedy structures built to keep the poor folk down

This song it is an ancient one, I wish that I could say
But greedy little landlords never really went away
There's no need for protection or an army at their call
All their friends and family are working in the Dáil