Oh, Who will plough the fields now
or who will sow the corn?
and who will mind the sheep now
and keep them neatly shorn?
The stack that's in the haggard,
unthrashed it may remain
Since Johnny's went a-thrashing
the dirty king of Spain
who the girls from the bawnogue
in sorrow may retire
And the piper and his bellows
go home and blow the fire
Since Johnny, lovely Johnny is sailing o'er the main
Along with other patriots
to fight the King of Spain
and the boys will surely miss him
when Moneymore comes round
And they'll find
that their bold captain is nowhere to be found
And the peelers must stand idle,
all against their will and main
Since the gallant boys who gave them work
now peels the King of Spain
At wakes or hurling matches
your like we'll never see
Till you come back to us again
a stor gra geal mo chroi
And won't you thrash the buckeens
that show us much disdain
Because our eyes are not so bright
as those you'll meet in Spain
If cruel fate will not permit
our Johnny to return
His heavy loss we
Bantry girls will never cease to mourn
We'll resign ourselves to our sad lod
and die in grief and pain
Since Johnny died for Ireland's pride
in the foreign land of Spain
to fight king of Spain