O, Father dear, I oft times here, you talk of Erin's Isle
Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
They say it tis a pretty place, wherein in a prince might dwell
O why did you abandon it, the reason to me tell?
O, son I loved my native land, with energy and pride
'Til a blight came over on my crops, my sheep and cattle died
The rent and taxes were so high, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason why, I left old Skibbereen.
O, It's well I do remember, that bleak December day
The landlord and the sheriff came, to drive us all away
They set my roof on fire, with their demon yellow spleen
And that's another reason why, I left old Skibbereen.
Your mother too, God rest her soul, fell on the snowy ground
She fainted in her anguish, seeing the desolation all round.
She never rose, but passed away, from life to immortal dream
She found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.
And you were only two years old, and feeble was your frame
I could not leave you with your friends, you bore your father's name
I wrapped you in my cota mior, in the dead of night unseen
I heaved a sigh, and said goodbye, to dear old Skibbereen.