Damn, I should look at these things before I paste them. That was an old transcription I did off a second generation tape. The song called "The Irish Brigade" by the Wolfetones is actually an old poem called "The Battle Eve of the Brigade". As you will see in the poem, the words are "Far Foreign Field....". I assumed in my ignorance all those years ago that a farfel was an agricultural term or something. At any rate, here is the poem, as transcribed from "1000 Years of Irish Poetry" edited by Kathleen Hoaglund. Many of the songs we sing today are poems from this volume set to music.

The Battle Eve of The Brigade

The mess tent is full and the glasses are set,
and the gallant Count Thomond is President yet.
The vet'ran arose like an uplifted lance,
crying "Comrades, a health to the Monarch of France!"
With bumpers and cheers, now, they have done as he bade,
for King Louis is loved by the Irish Brigade.

"A health to King James" as they bent and they quaffed;
"And to George the Elector,"and fiercely they laughed;
Good luck to the girls, we wooed long ago,
Where the Shannon, and Barrow, and black water flow,
"God prosper old Ireland," you'd think them afraid,
So pale grew the chiefs of the Irish Brigade.

But surely that light does not come from our lamp,
and the noise, are they all getting drunk round the camp?
Hurrah boys, the morning of battle has come,
And the generals beating on many a drum
So they rushed from the revel to join the parade,
for the van is the right of the Irish Brigade.

They fought as they reveled, fast fiery and true,
and though victors, they left on the field not a few.
And they who survived, fought and drank as of yore,
But the land of their heart's hope they never saw more.
In far foreign fields, from Dunkirk to Belgrade,
Lie the soldiers and Chiefs of the Irish Brigade.
In far foreign fields, from Dunkirk to Belgrade,
Lie the soldiers and Chiefs of the Irish Brigade.