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Poetry - The Council Turfcutting Song
The Council Turfcutting Song
Marcus John Charlie,
Lochagher, Crolly
Written c 1940’s
The latest news would make you all scream,
The news it’s so thrilling, it’s just like a dream,
It’s about the officials that answered the call
To crush down the workers of West Donegal.
Dillon the surveyor that came to Dungloe
And another big monster that came from Mayo,
McKieran, McMahon and O’Brien from Glenmore
And young Swankey Breslin, from the plains of Gweedore.
One fine April morning as cold winds did blow,
These six mighty ‘landlords’ did meet in Dungloe.
Says one to the other, we’ll now call the roll
And deprive all the workers, of their few shillings dole.
Say’s Dillon to Hyland these men are all poor,
‘O yes’ says young Breslin ‘They’ll run for the moor’.
McKieran, McMahon and O’Brien did agree,
To cut down the wages to a very small fee.
Now men of the Rosses who labour the soil,
Come follow your leader Dan C. O’Boyle,
United together we’ll firmly stand,
And set fair play and justice for each working man.
Now men of Tyrconnell I can’t say no more,
But remember bold Breslin from the plains of Gweedore.
Both him and his comrades you’ll know too well,
On the hard worker’s money they do act the swell.
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