Hi again, here are 2 versions of Garryowen.

The first one would be to the tune used by the Seventh Cavalry - I believe Custer heard one of his soldiers sing it and decided to adopt it for his cavalry - but that could be the Hollywood story?

GARRYOWEN #1 - Tune "Rakes of Mallow."

Let Bacchus's sons be not dismayed
But join me with each jovial blade.
Come booze and sing and lend your aid
To help me with the chorus:

CHORUS: Instead of Spa, we'll drink brown ale
And pay the reckoning on the nail.
No man for debt shall go to jail
From Garryowen in glory.

We are the boys that take delight in
Smashing Limerick lamps when lighting
Through the streets like sporters fighting
And tearing all before us. CHORUS

We'll break windows. We'll break doors,
The watch knock down by threes and fours,
Then let the doctors work their cures
And tinker up our bruises. CHORUS

We'll beat the bailiffs out of fun.
We'll make the mayor and sheriffs run.
We are the boys no man dares dun
If he regards a whole skin. CHORUS

Our hearts so stout have got us fame,
For soon 'tis known from whence we came.
Where'er we go they dread the name
Of Garryowen in Glory. CHORUS

Johnny Connel's tall and straight
And in his limbs he is complete.
He'll pitch a bar of any weight
From Garryowen to Thormond Gate. CHORUS

Garryowen is gone to wreck
Since Johnny Connel went to Cork,
Though Darby O'Brien leaped over the dock
In spite of all the soldiers. CHORUS.

#2
GARRYOWEN-NA-GLORY

Oh, many a land both great and grand has bowed to foreign master,
And many a fight 'gainst tyrants' might has sunk in dire disaster;
But one I hold, creation old, one land, one cause, one story
Still lives, still glows, still thrives and grows. 'Tis Garryowen-na-glory.
'Tis Garryowen, our pride, our own. 'Tis Garryowen-na-glory.

By nature blessed in verdure dressed, she crests the western waters.
Oh, fairer far than dawn stars are her guileless hearted daughters.
Her bare breast sons have faced the guns in many a battle gory,
Stood man to man in valor's van for Garryowen-na-glory.
For Garryowen, they held their own, for Garryowen-na-glory.

Mavrone the isle, through fraud and guile has lost her golden splendor
And scattered far 'neath many a star are those who dare defend her;
But mark me, men, she'll rise again, unsullied still her story,
Till peerless stands 'mid freeborn lands our Garryowen-na-glory.
For Garryowen, we'll build a throne, dear Garryowen-na-glory.

Oh, many a land now great and grand shall sink in streams of ages,
And many a name of pride and fame shall fade from history's pages,
But earth shall reel, at judgment peal in wreck and ruin hoary
Ere fades, ere dies, ere lowly lies Our Garryowen-na-glory.
Oh, Garryowen, she'll reign alone, proud Garryowen-na-glory.