Push for PORTER

izquierdaThe Streets Of New Yorkderecha

Liam Reilly


I was eighteen years old when I went down to Dublin,
With a fistfull of money and a cartload of dreams,
Take your time said me father,"Stop rushing like hell,
And remember all is not what it seems to be,
For there's fellas would cut ye for the coat on yer back,
Or the watch that ye got from yer mother,
So take care me young buck-o and mind yourself well,
And will ye give this wee note to me brother


At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn,
And me father the youngest looked after the farm,
When a phonecall from America said 'Send the lad over',
Well the old fella said 'It wouldn't do any harm',
For I spent me life working this dirty old ground,
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound,
And sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see,
And you can bring it back home, make it easyon me

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi
Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain,
Well me poor heart was thumpin' around with excitement,
And I hardly ever heard what the driver was saying,
We came in the Shore Parkway to the Flatlands of Brooklyn,
To my Uncles apartment On East 53rd,
I was feelin' so happy I was hummin' a song,
And I sang, You're as free as a bird'

Well to shorten the story what I found out that day,
Was that Benjy got shot down in an uptown foray,
And while I was flyin' my way to New York,
Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue,
Well I phoned up the old fella, told him the news,
I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes,
And he wept as he said 'Go ahead with the plan',
And not to forget be a proud Irishman

So I went up to Nellies beside Fordham Road,
And I started to learn about lifting the load,
But the heaviest thing I carried that year,
Was the bittersweet thoughts of my hometown so dear,
I went home that December 'cause the old fella died,
Had to borrow some money from Phil on the side,
And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide,
The poor wasted face of me father

I sold up the old farmyard for what it was worth,
And into me bag stuck a handful of earth,
Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane,
And I found myself back in the US again,
Its been twenty two years since I set foot in Dublin,
Me kids know to use the correct knife and fork,
But I never will forget the green grass and the rivers,
As I keep law and order on the streets of New York.



Song