The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #138222   Message #3163111
Posted By: Jim Carroll
31-May-11 - 10:53 AM
Thread Name: Folklore: Songs or Stories about Pakistan?
Subject: RE: Folklore: Songs or Stories about Pakistan?
Don't know if this is what you're looking for - 19th century Irish song with referenvces to the Pakistan Afghanistan border area.
Not sure of the place - "Sutelaig"; learned the song phonetically from a singer who learned it similarly - would welcome correction.
Jim Carroll


THE MULLINGAR RECRUIT.

It was on one sultry summers day when, tired of working at the hay
I lay and watched a regiment marching by to foreign wars.
I don't know how it came about, I must have slept, without a doubt,
For I dreamt I took that shilling that day in Mullingar.

Oh sergeant A gradh Mo Chroidhe, will you swap back again with me,
For my old coat and overcoat were warmer by far,
And besides, my heart will surely break if friends and neigbours I forsake,
And wear the highland petticoat going down to Mullingar.

But the sergeant he spoke sharp to me, you might as well contented be,
You went and took the shilling down in Mary Ann Egan's Bar,
And as for those you leave behind, you might as well make up your mind;,
You've gone and put your foot in it this day in Mullingar.

'Twas then I went with grief and pain, but all my protests were in vain:
We marched through Monesterevin with a general in a car.
And when we came to Wexford Town, straight to the transport we sailed down,
And sailed away to India, farewell to Mullingar.

The heat was heavy overhead, we fought till nearly all were dead,
From Sutelaig to Khyber, till we came to Kandahar,
And those Indians were a terrible lot, they gave it to us hard and hot,
I lost two legs by cannon shot and I sighed for Mullingar.

It was on the bloody ground I lay, in deep despair, I could not pray
I cursed the day I 'listed and my joy in life did mar,
When someone near me gave a shout, I woke right up and looked about,
Thank god I was only dreaming, I was back in Mullingar.

I gazed around me with delight, I felt my own two legs, all right,
I kissed the ground I lay upon and I thanked my lucky stars,
I swore no soldiering I'd try unless for Ireland's cause to die,
King George may stuff his shilling up, I'm content in Mullingar