That lonely place on Penrose Quay,
Where many a tear was shed;
Cork’s finest sons and daughters wept,
Cork’s youth was then being bled;

A ship was waiting on the shore,
To take them all away;
To London, Coventry, Birmingham, New York and Botany Bay.

Like the wild geese they had to go,
To save those left behind;
The pride of Cork were leaving us,
The gentle and the kind;

They worked in foundries, building sites,
and slaved in coalmines too;
sweat and toiled in hotel kitchens,
In Camden town and Waterloo.

For some a case of ‘do-or-die’
When told ‘No Irish need apply’,
And many with Mc Alpine’s men they stood,
Digging dirt in the underground in Cricklewood

But Cork must not forget them,
Many call ‘the forgotten race’;
Our children forced to migrate,
‘Tis them we must embrace;
A monument for them to be,
And all the world will see;
A tribute to our exiles,

 

Lyrics by Liam O’Laoire, +353 [0] 85 843 3422
 Music by Richard T. Cooke 2010