| I am the Kilrain, I’m a fightin' man
|
| And I come from County Clare
|
| And the Brits would hang me for a Fenian
|
| So I took my leave of there
|
| And I crossed the ocean in the Arrianne
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| The vilest tub afloat
|
| And the captain’s brother was a railroad man
|
| And he met us at the boat
|
| So I joined up with the 20th Maine
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| Like I said, my friend, I’m a fighting man
|
| Marchin' south in the pouring rain
|
| We’re all goin' down to Dixieland
|
| I am Kilrain of the 20th Maine
|
| And we fight for Chamberlain
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| 'Cause he stood right with us
|
| When the Johnnies came like a banshee on the wind
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| When the smoke cleared out of Gettysburg
|
| Many a mother wept
|
| For many a good boy died there, sure
|
| And the air smelled just like death
|
| I am Kilrain of the 20th Maine
|
| And I’d march to hell and back again
|
| For Colonel Joshua Chamberlain
|
| We’re all goin' down to Dixieland
|
| I am the Kilrain of the 20th Maine
|
| And I damn all gentlemen
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| Whose only worth is their father’s name
|
| And the sweat of a workin' man
|
| Well, we come from the farms and the city streets
|
| A hundred foreign lands
|
| And we spilled our blood in the battle’s heat
|
| Now we’re all Americans
|
| I am the Kilrain of the 20th Maine
|
| And did I tell you, friend, I’m a fightin' man
|
| And I’ll not be back this way again
|
| 'Cause we’re all goin' down to Dixieland |