The Return of Ned of the Hill Celtic Folk

Released June 6, 2016

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Sound Recording

PLUS
James Fraser ("offthewall")
South Shields near Newcastle Tyneside United Kingdom
Other releases
Guitars, mandolin, bodhran, vocal, composition, production.
PRO
Joel Sattler ("joel_sattlersongs")
Chevy Chase Maryland USA
Other releases
Lyrics and adaptation
PLUS
Ian Middleton ("Mysterian")
Bengeo United Kingdom
Other releases
Accordion, vocals.
PREMIER
Jim Edwards ("FourStringFantasy")
Fort Smith Arkansas USA
Other releases
Mountain dulcimer.
Lilah Grace C ("LilahGrace")
United Kingdom
Other releases
Penny-whistle, fiddle.
Artist's Notes

This is a Joel Sattler adaptation of the old Irish tale of Eamonn an Chnoic.

As there have been various songs written to this story in the past I have taken the approach of basing it loosely around another old Irish lament which was composed by the 17th Century blind harpist Turlough O'Carolan.

Lyrics

THE RETURN OF NED OF THE HILL song lyrics 

by Joel Sattler 

 

an Irish freebooter named Ned of the Hill 

from High Tipperary a rapparee still 

lived up in the badlands with his outlaw gang 

tis he that we honored in the songs that we sang 

 

the Treaty of Limerick ended the war 

but it couldn't end what the fighting was for 

the geese may have flown but young Ned had to stay 

protecting his people for another day 

 

the Lord tax collector was seizing a cow 

from a crippled old woman without man or plow 

he fought the King's man and he shot him dead 

then there was a price on this Irish man's head 

 

but Ned of the Hill Eamonn an Chnoic 

was champion of poor and he gave John a kick 

he turned himself in to collect the reward 

and escaped in the night with his horse and his sword 

 

Oh Ned of the Hill 

Ned of the Hill 

the sheriff can't catch you 

and he never will 

and when you're in heaven 

and Kings are in Hell 

your spirit be roamin' 

o'er mountain and dell

 

for the English give not a good dam for the green 

they don't even think we are human it seems 

near 500 years under bad English law 

the lion of Britain held Eire in its claws 

 

so go where you will and will where you go 

the English can't catch you they never will know 

that an outlaw is outlaw only to the rich 

but to the plain folk their own son of a bitch

 

Oh Ned of the Hill 

Ned of the Hill 

the sheriff can't catch you 

and he never will 

and when you're in heaven 

and Kings are in Hell 

your spirit be roamin' 

 

o'er mountain and dell