Push for PORTER

The childer are crying for food sir,
It's been days since they last had a bite,
With the winter blowing through the furze sir,
There's some might not last through the night,
They drove us away from the town sir,
Out here where we wouldn't be seen,
Cast out by the good Christian people,
Like lepers unfit and unclean,

They call us the Wrens of the Curragh,
We live and we die in a hole,
For a penny I'd give you my body,
And for tuppence I'd sell you my soul.

It wasn't for this I was born sir,
As a girl I was healthy and strong,
I was happy to work on the land sir,
And I'd sing like a lark all day long,
But the landowner liked what he saw sir.
He used me and gave me a son,
Then cast me aside like a dog sir,
Without even a stitch of my own.

If you're done with me sir thank you kindly,
Now go back to your God fearin' wife,
To your big house and fine healthy children,
And I hope that you'll have a good life,
And when you pray to your God in the morning,
To forgive for all of your sins,
Please spare a few thoughts in your prayer sir
For me and the poor Curragh wrens.