Scoil: Drom Mór (B.), Beantraí (uimhir rolla 13095)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. High, Ho, the Money O (ar lean)

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)

   Its power on earth, almost divine,
   It conquers youth and beauty, O,
   While millions worship at its shrine
   Forgetting love and duty, O.
   The parson prays, the soldier slays,
   The clown grins dull and funny, O,
   All kinds of men, all sorts of ways,
   Are striving for the money O.

   Now those who act an honest part,
   Life's often dark and dreary, O,
   While many's the brave and manly heart
   With its dark load is weary, O,
   Fortune is a fickle jade,
   It ill requites your labours, O,
   And oft she passes by your door,
   And smiles down on your neighbours, O.

   Now, if its known your purse is long
   There's such a charm about you, O,
   That whether you are right or wrong,
   Therr's few will dare to doubt you, O.
   Each sin and sore it covers o'er,
   Makes ugly folk look bonny, O,
   In fact you'd want for little more,
   If you only had the money, O.

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

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