Lyrics & Knowledge Personal Pages Record Shop Auction Links Radio & Media Kids Membership Help
The Mudcat Cafemuddy

Post to this Thread - Sort Descending - Printer Friendly - Home


Lyr Req: Finn MacCool

GUEST,Alison Cone 20 Aug 01 - 08:31 AM
Wolfgang 20 Aug 01 - 08:56 AM
GUEST,Paddy(1) 20 Aug 01 - 09:54 AM
GUEST 20 Aug 01 - 11:31 AM
IanC 20 Aug 01 - 12:47 PM
GUEST,Alison Cone 20 Aug 01 - 08:05 PM
GUEST,info@ossianusa.com 22 Feb 06 - 06:51 PM
GUEST 09 Dec 08 - 04:26 AM
GUEST,Dave_ 09 Dec 08 - 08:30 AM
Jim Dixon 10 Dec 08 - 10:46 AM
Jim Dixon 10 Dec 08 - 11:13 AM
Jim Dixon 10 Dec 08 - 11:39 AM
GUEST,frank mcc 13 Nov 09 - 06:33 AM
Jim Carroll 13 Nov 09 - 12:59 PM
Sandy Mc Lean 13 Nov 09 - 02:29 PM
Sandy Mc Lean 13 Nov 09 - 02:44 PM
GUEST,corkdruid 15 May 10 - 06:46 PM
banjoman 16 May 10 - 07:36 AM
GUEST 25 Apr 12 - 09:34 AM
Share Thread
more
Lyrics & Knowledge Search [Advanced]
DT  Forum
Sort (Forum) by:relevance date
DT Lyrics:





Subject: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,Alison Cone
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 08:31 AM

Anybody know a kinda gory song about Finn McCool? I'd love the lyrics if anyone knows them.

Cheers, -AC


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: Wolfgang
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 08:56 AM

Well, the giant features in 'Rock on Rock all' which has been posted at least twice in the forum, but is not reaaly gory.

A truly gory song would be the one with the line (if misheard) 'Finn MacCool has given the word, follow me up to Carlow' in it. That's a very long shot, sorry about it.

Wolfgang


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,Paddy(1)
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 09:54 AM

Wolfgang

It was misheard -- should be Fiach McHugh has given the word

It wouldn't be about the horse called Fionn McCool who (allegedly !) won a big race, despite all the odds, at the Races of Punchestown.

Paddy(1)


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: Lyr Add: LEGEND OF FINN MACCUMHAIL
From: GUEST
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 11:31 AM

THE LEGEND OF FINN MACCUMHAIL
As sung by The Dropkick Murphys

This mighty soldier on the eve of the war he waged
Told his troops of lessons learned from battles fought:
"May your heart grow bolder like an ironclad brigade"
Said this leader to his outnumbered lot.

Known as a hero to all that he knew,
Long live the legend of Finn MacCool!
The brave fearless leader of the chosen few,
Long live the legend of Finn MacCool!


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: IanC
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 12:47 PM

Well ...

Scoured the web, but could only find a band called Finn MacCool who may have done a song about him.

Of course, Carolan's Si Bheag Si Mhor is about MacCool

Si Bheag Si Mhor: This was probably the first composition of Turlough Carolan (1670--1738), the famous harper, tho it may have been based on an earlier song, An Chuaichin Mhaiseach, The Bonny Cuckoo. It was composed at the suggestion of Squire Reynolds of Lough Scur, Co. Leitrim. According to the story, Carolan at that time was only moderately skilled on the harp, and Reynolds suggested he try composing, as he "might make a better fist of his tongue than his fingers." He suggested the story of Si Bheag and Si Mhor as the subject. These are two ranges of hills near Lough Scur which were, according to local folklore, the seats of opposing hosts of the Good People. There was a great battle between them in which Finn McCool and his Fianna were defeated. Carolan composed the tune, and played it for Squire Reynolds, who was more than pleased. This was the beginning of Carolan's reputation.

but I don't think that's what you want.

Worn fingers, worn brain!
Ian


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,Alison Cone
Date: 20 Aug 01 - 08:05 PM

Thanks all - I'll have to get some more info from the band member who's heard it once and wants to pursue it. Maybe some fragments that he already knows will help?

Cheers, -AC


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,info@ossianusa.com
Date: 22 Feb 06 - 06:51 PM

We have a storyteller friend looking for lyrics/recitatation for "Punchestown" which tells of a race won by horse named Fionn MacCool.   Any help most appreciated!
Peace & Health,
Charlie & Mary Lou


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST
Date: 09 Dec 08 - 04:26 AM

It was martin macdermott that bought him from a man a the fair in naas
And never an uglier object was seen in a farmer's place
he was long and lanky and bony and he had a head like a tinker's mule
but he had such a style steppin' that they christened him finn macool


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,Dave_
Date: 09 Dec 08 - 08:30 AM

Dropkick Murphys version

This mighty soldier on the eve of the war he waged told his troops of lessons
learned from battles fought:
"May your heart grow bolder like an iron--clad brigade" said this leader to his
outnumbered lot.

Known as a hero to all that he knew, long live the legend of Finn MacCuil!
The brave fearless leader of the chosen few, long live the legend of Finn
MacCuil!


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: Lyr Add: THE RACING OF FINN MCCOOL (Teresa Brayton
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 10 Dec 08 - 10:46 AM

Copied from The Ballagh Advertiser, where it describes this as a recitation, not a song. I inserted line breaks and most of the punctuation.


THE RACING OF FINN MCCOOL
by Teresa Brayton (1865-1943)

'Twas Martin McDermott bought him from a man at the fair of Naas,
And never an uglier object was seen on a farmer's place.
He was lanky and long and bony with a head like a tinker's mule,
And he had such a style of steppin' that they christened him Finn McCool.

But never a word said Martin. 'Tis he is the knowing one.
He foddered the colt all winter and cantered him there and yon;
So a feather would knock me over when I heard that day in the town
That Finn McCool had been entered for the races of Punchestown.

Takin' a drop to brace me, I started off for Manooth,
But twenty were there before me as anxious to know the truth;
And there sat deluderin' Martin jokin' and acting the fool,
Tellin' stories of this and that but nothin' of Finn McCool.

Tippin' a wink for myself to stay, he soon got rid of the lot,
When the missus came out to call him to come while his tea was hot.
Of course, a cup was there for myself and a plateful of pancakes brown,
But what did I care for pancakes with my mind on Punchestown?

Don't talk of a month of waitin' till every cent you own,
Is set on an ornery horse that's skin where he isn't bone.
I dreamt of him night and mornin' till my wife says "Phelim O'Toole,
'Tis down in Carlow Asylum you'll finish up with Finn McCool."

At last the day of the races came. Martin, myself and the horse,
With Davey Lacey to ride him were early upon the course.
"How much against Finn McCool?" said I and the bookie said with a grin,
"Twenty to one and the fun you'll have watchin' the others win."

Indeed, I could never blame him when I saw the horses in line
Leap out like shots from a rifle when the starter flung up the sign,
And laggin' along behind them went Finn McCool at a pace
That would shame any 'dacent' donkey for sale at the fair of Naas.

"Go on, ye devil!" I yelled at him. "Go on and lift your feet,
Or by all the Fenians in Tir Na n'Og, I'll shoot you the day you're beat!"
And by me Martin McDermott was cursin' him dead and blind,
With the crowd all laughin' and shoutin' "Arrah! Look at the one behind!"

And he heard us by all the gods of war for he leapt up like a frightened deer,
And started off with Lacey the jock jigsawin' from ear to ear.
Rearin' and tearin' and snortin' he clattered past horse by horse,
While you'd think the end of the world had come by the roarin' upon the course.

With his big feet thrashin' like paddle wheels and his tail like a jury mast,
He went over hurdle and double ditch till the first of the field was passed.
"He's winnin'! He's winnin'!" I heard and then "Take that" says I "from O'Toole,"
As I flung my hat in the bookie's face who was laughin' at Finn McCool.

Winnin', of course he was winnin', with the people all goin' wild,
And Martin McDermott cryin' beside me just like a child.
"Faith, the omadaum doesn't know when to stop" said Kelly the vet from Clane,
For havin' leapt through the judges' box, Finn made for the hill again.

We followed him into the paddock where the horses were weighin' in,
And devil a hair was turned on the hide of that warrior Finn.
As cool as his mighty namesake that never had known defeat,
He seemed to be winkin' "A Fenian lad is a mighty hard thing to beat."

Well, the bookies paid us our money and the crownin' joy of that race
Was countin' my bag of sovereigns from the lad I hit in the face.
"Be careful, me boyo" says I to him "next time when your cash goes down,
That it isn't a Finn McCool you have, the winner of Punchestown."


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: Lyr Add: PUNCHESTOWN
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 10 Dec 08 - 11:13 AM

Here's another version, copied from IRTRAD-L Archives. It was posted by Niall MacDonagh who says he performs it as a recitation, so I assume he wrote it from memory and it has been folk-processed a bit. There are considerable differences with the version above (which may have been folk-processed also).


PUNCHESTOWN

'Twas Martin McDermott that bought him from a man at the fair of Naas,
And never an uglier object was seen in a farmer's place.
He was long and lanky and boney with a face like a circus mule,
But he had such a style of stepping that he christened him Finn McCool.

Now never a word says Martin, for Martin's the knowing one,
But he followed the cold all winter and cantered him hither and yon;
But a feather could have knocked me down when I heard one day in the town
That Finn McCool had been entered in the races at Punchestown.

Now taking a drop to brace meself, I started out for Maynooth,
And there was twenty there before me as anxious to know the truth;
And there sat the flutherin' Martin, joking and playing the fool,
Telling tales about this and that but never a word about Finn McCool.

But tipping a nod for myself to stay, he soon got rid of the lot,
When the Missus from the doorway calls "Martin, come in while the tay is hot".
There was a cup there for meself, of course, and a plate full of pancakes brown,
But I couldn't be bothered with pancakes. My mind was on Punchestown.

Now, Martin sat down and told me the grandsires all of Finn,
And about all the races that they won and all of their famous kin.
"The horse has his points", says Martin, "though he steps like a circus clown,
But he stands to make me or break me at the races of Punchestown."

Well, the day of the races came and Martin, meself and the horse,
And Davey Lacy, the jockey, were early upon the course.
"How much am I bet upon Finn McCool?" says the bookie, and he says it with a grin,
"Fifty to wan and the fun you'll have watching another wan win".

Christ, it's a terrible feeling when every shilling that you own
Is bet on an ornery animal that's skin where it isn't bone.
I couldn't sleep a wink all night till the wife she says "Felim O'Toole,
It's down in the Carlow asylum you'll end up with Finn McCool!"

Well, the horses came down from the paddock, got up and stood in line,
And they were all off like shots from a rifle when the starter flung up his sign;
And lagging a long way behind them came Finn McCool at a pace
That would shame any decent donkey for sale at the fair of Naas.

"Get up out o' that" I yelled at him. "Get up and move your feet,
For by sweet God in heaven above, I'll shoot you the day you're beat."
And Martin and meself beside him were cursing him dead and blind
And the crowd all laughing and yelling "Yerra, look at the one behind!"

But he heard us, by all the gods of war, for he burst like a frightened deer,
And Davy Lacy the jockey seesawing from tail to ear.
He was roaring and snorting and farting as he clabbered by, horse by horse,
And you'd think the end of the world had come with the roaring upon the course.

Big hooves trashing like paddlewheels, tail like a jury mast,
Over hurdles and double ditch till the rest of the field had been passed.
"He's winning," I heard someone saying and the crowd all going wild,
And Martin McDermott beside me was crying like a child.

"Winning, of course he is winning" says I "and take that from O'Toole!"
And I flung my hat in the bookie's face that was laughing at Finn McCool.
"Begod, the amadon doesn't know when to stop" says Kelly, the vet from Clane,
As having it won, he leapt through the judges' box and made for the hill again.

Well, we followed them back to the paddock where the horses were weighing in,
And never a hair was turned in the hide of the warrior Finn.
As cool as his mighty namesake, who had never known defeat
He seemed to be saying "A Fenian lad is a mighty hard thing to beat."

Well, the eventful day being over, the crowning joy of the race
Was collecting a handful of fivers from the bookie I'd hit in the face.
"Be careful, my bucko" I said to him, "when you lay your money down,
And don't lay long odds on Finn McCool, the winner at Punchestown!"


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: FINN MCCOUL - FINN MACCOOL - FINN MAC COUL
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 10 Dec 08 - 11:39 AM

Other recordings:

FINN MCCOUL is the name of a story told by Catherine O'Hara, accompanied by music by Boys of the Lough, on the album "Finn McCoul" (Rincon, 1991) but I was unable to find any words or sound samples.

Pat Kirtley performs FINN MACCOOL'S REEL on two various-artists collections "Dance of the Celts" (Celtic, 1997) and "Celtic Fingerstyle Guitar, Vol. 1: Ramble to Cashel" (Celtic, 1998). It appears to be an arrangement for acoustic guitar without lyrics.

Lontano performs FINN MAC COUL'S LAMENT on their album "Landscape Prayers." It is attributed to [Anton?] Cawthorn-Blazeby. It's a jazzy piece with fiddle in the style of Riverdance, and might not have lyrics.

Eddie Lenihan performs on a series of albums called "Fionn Mac Cumhail and the Púca" (Céirníní Cladaigh, 1982), "Fionn Mac Cumhail and the Dark Pool" (Céirníní Cladaigh, 1983), and "Fionn Mac Cumhail: Niamh and the Giant"   (Céirníní Cladaigh, 1984)—but I think they are all spoken stories.


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,frank mcc
Date: 13 Nov 09 - 06:33 AM

the best recitation is from Noel Pender on an album...cant find a copy though!


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: Jim Carroll
Date: 13 Nov 09 - 12:59 PM

A song based on a story.
The story we recorded from Kerry Traveller Mikeen McCarthy, and the song, based on it was written by the late Donneill Kennedy
Jim Carroll

15 - Finn MacCool and the Two-Headed Giant.
(Aarne-Thompson 1149) Mikeen McCarthy

Er, there was an Irish giant, Finn MacCool was his name. He wasn't a very big giant, he was only nineteen foot high, and his sword used be six feet long and it weighed three quarters of a hundred¬weight.
So, he'd a very small regiment. He used go to all the famous rivers of Ireland and the River Laune and the River Lee and the River Shannon, he used keep by the side of the rivers.
Now why he'd a very small regiment was that his army had three tasks to do, he'd only twelve men in an army. And they'd have to run through a wood without breaking a kippen,* they'd have to catch a hare on the run and they'd have to jump three regiment. So that's why he'd a very small army.
Why he kept the side of the rivers was if they got into a serious fight with other giants well they were that fit and that powerful they used leap from one side of the river to the other. But his name went far and near anyway, he was such a powerful giant.
And a French giant, he heard all about him. So the French giant comes all the ways over from France to Ireland with his own entire army. So all you could hear the French giant saying, and all his army, was:
"Hum hom hoo,
I smells the blood of an Irishman,
His body and blood for my supper tonight
And his head for my morning dram. "
And his army marched behind him at the one time, and they'd all be saying the same thing like.
And Finn MacCool, he was at home in his house and he could hear it, the French giant and all his army and 'twas like balls of thunder when they were coming like, for Finn MacCool's place.
So Finn MacCool knew that he was no match for the French giant, because the French giant, he had two heads, he was the two-headed giant. And he spoke to the mother; 'Oh, what'll we do', he said to the mother?
So she had Finn MacCool's cot when he was young, and she said, 'Get into the cot and I'll let on your Finn MacCool's son'.
So in goes Finn MacCool, into the cot anyway, and she could hear the big French giant coming.
"Hum horn hoo,
I smells the blood of an Irishman,
His body and blood for my supper tonight
And his head for my morning dram. "
"Hum horn hoo " you'd hear all his army saying.
So he knocked at the door and Finn MacCool's mother came out.
"Is this the home", he said, "of Finn MacCool?"
"Oh, it is", says his mother.
"Well", he said, "I'm here to have battle with him."
"Well", she said, "Finn MacCool is out."
But he looked inside in the cot. "And who is this?"
"Oh, this is his son", she said.
So he put his finger into Finn MacCool's mouth, playing with him, he thought it was a child, and Finn MacCool nearly bit the finger off of him. So he slapped away his finger.
And he looked up at the side of the wall and there was Finn MacCool's sword. "Is this his famous sword", he says to his mother?
"Oh no", she said, "he've his sword with him, that's for picking his teeth", she said, "when after his dinner."
So the sword was six foot long and it weighed three quarters of a hundredweight.   So the French giant heard this.
So she had a big cake of bread down by the fire in a griddle. Well, what a griddle is, it's a big cast thing like and it went about quarter of an inch thick, or half inch and about six feet across, that was for a cake of bread.
"What is this?"
"Oh, this is his dinner", she said, "when he come back with a cow", she said, "he do have a cow that he eat with that."
So he looked, he picked up the griddle and tried to bite it of course, and he couldn't get through the cast, he didn't know what it was.
"Oh", he said. And he tried; it cracked all his teeth.
So he heard enough off of the old woman and away he turned. He said, "I'd better not wait to see the real Finn MacCool."
And away he went and he high-tailed it over to France and they never see the French giant again.

[* Kippen : kippeen; little stick. Mikeen says MacCoon, rather than MacCool, in a few places.]

Mikeen learned this from his father, Michael McCarthy Snr, who had a reputation as a singer and storyteller both among travellers and gorgies (settled people).

O'REILLY AND THE BIG McNEIL      
Donneil Kennedy
tune: Garden where the Praties Grow.

Well, the day I met O'Reilly it was thirty-two below,
The sparks were flying off me pick, I was up to me neck in snow.
His footsteps shook the basement slab, I saw the sky grow black
As he roared out, 'I'm your ganger now, so dig until you crack!'

He was bigger than a dumper truck, with legs like concrete piles,
His face was like a load of bricks, his teeth were six inch files;
His eyes they shone like danger lamps, his hands were tough as steel,
But a man as small as that was never a match for Big McNeil.

When the tea came round at dinner time, He grabbed a gallon tin.
I said 'you'd better drop that fast if you would save your skin,
You may be called O'Reilly, but I will to you reveal
That the cup you've got your hands on, it belongs to big McNeil.

Well, he laughed at me and carried on as if I hadn't spoke,
He said 'A man from Dublin town can always take a joke,'
But when he picked a shovel up, wee Jimmie gave a squeal.
'You'd better drop that teaspoon, it belongs to Big McNeil.'

Well, everything the ganger touched we said to leave alone,
Or else McNeil would grind him up and make plaster of his bones,
As last O'Reilly lost his head and said he'd make a meal
Out of any labourer in the squad, especially Big McNeil.

We said McNeil was home in bed, and told him where to go,
The boys all dropped their tools and went along to watch the show,
And when we got to Renfrew street wee Jimmy danced a reel
To see him thundering at the door, to fight the big McNeil.

When the ganger got inside he saw a monster on the bed,
A mound as big as a stanchion base with a barrel size of head,
He punched it and he thumped it and he hit about with zeal,
Till the missus cried - 'Don't hurt the child, or else I'll tell McNeil.'

He was bigger than a dumper truck, with legs like concrete piles,
His face was like a load of bricks, his teeth were six inch files,
His eyes they shone like danger lamps, his hands were tough as steel,
But a man as small as that was never a match for Big McNeil.


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: Sandy Mc Lean
Date: 13 Nov 09 - 02:29 PM

Also Stan Roger's Giant is about Finn but not too gory.
Giant


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: Sandy Mc Lean
Date: 13 Nov 09 - 02:44 PM

Stan singing Giant


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST,corkdruid
Date: 15 May 10 - 06:46 PM

To Guest:   I would love to have the rest of this Finn MacCool poem if you have it. My little Irish song book from "If you feel like singing, do sing an Irish song' publishers.   Thanks, and Slan.


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: banjoman
Date: 16 May 10 - 07:36 AM

I was always told that Finn McCool was the giant responsible for creating the Giants Causeway


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Finn MacCool
From: GUEST
Date: 25 Apr 12 - 09:34 AM

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bNLWnXtwzNQ


Post - Top - Home - Printer Friendly - Translate
  Share Thread:
More...

Reply to Thread
Subject:  Help
From:
Preview   Automatic Linebreaks   Make a link ("blue clicky")


Mudcat time: 20 September 8:22 PM EDT

[ Home ]

All original material is copyright © 1998 by the Mudcat Café Music Foundation, Inc. All photos, music, images, etc. are copyright © by their rightful owners. Every effort is taken to attribute appropriate copyright to images, content, music, etc. We are not a copyright resource.