O, Father dear, I often heard you speak of Erin's Isle
Her lofty scene, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
You say it is a pleasant place wherein a prince might dwell
Why have you then forsaken her, the reason to me tell?

My son, I loved our native land with energy and pride
Until a blight fell on the land and sheep and cattle died
The rents and taxes were to pay, I could not them redeem
And that's the cruel reason why I left Old Skibbereen

It's well I do remember on a bleak November day
The landlord and his agent came to drive us all away
He set my house on fire with his demon yellow spleen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen

Your mother, too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground
She fainted in her anguish at the desolation round
She never rose, but went her way from life to death's long dream
And found a quiet grave, my boy, in lovely Skibbereen

It's well I do remember the year of forty-eight
When we arose with Erin's boys to fight against our fate
I was hunted through the mountains as a traitor to the Queen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen

Oh father dear, the day will come when vengeance loud will call
And we'll arise with Erin's boys and rally one and all
I'll be the man to lead the van, beneath our flag of green
And loud and high we'll raise the cry, Revenge for Skibbereen!