In 1909 from Donegal's
Shore I sailed to Old New York Town.
In the harbour Lady Liberty stands,
I don't believe I'll again see dear Auld Ireland.
But the promise in these city streets
Is so grand, and it's there I'd wed my dear sweet lass.
A bricklayer's spade my trade to be,
And she slaved in the Triangle Shirt Factory.
My God, the dreadful conditions there,
They toiled through dim light and stifling air.
And grueling hours the seamstress gave,
To the industrial captains, for a trifling wage.
Though two years passed, we saw no change.
And I grieved for my love's dark misery.
Then word ran through the New York streets,
There's a fire at the Triangle Shirt Factory.
T'was only moments, and the factory surrendered to flames,
And the fire escapes soon gave way.
In the windows huddled girls appeared,
Flames licked at their backs, their faces gripped with fear.
"My God, don't jump" came the fireman's roar,
Whose ladders failed to reach the top floors.
A last shared glance, and final embrace,
They leaped to their tragic, amd senseless fates.
Now I scream at the sky, there's got to be a reason why.
Bewildered and grieved, I'm tangled and mired.
My love is gone, oh, the Triangle fire.
The world is so cold, desperate and dire.
I've lost everything in the Triangle fire.
There was no reason, there was no right
And no law, to save us from this crime at all.
The owner's trial did reveal,
That the girls were locked in, the doors had all been sealed.
"My God, they've gone free" came our hopeless cry.
The bosses won, with their lawyers and lies.
The power and greed again prevailed.
We were left with our sorrow, to our despair.
Now I scream at the sky, there's got to be a reason why.
Bewildered and grieved, I'm tangled and mired.
My love is gone, oh, the Triangle fire.
The world is so cold, desperate and dire.
I've lost everything in the Triangle fire.
I fear the future, I can imagine the time when our cityscape will touch the sky.
Will men of faith, of wealth and power
Spare their people a fate like the Triangle fire?
"My God, forgive me", these men will cry
In their final hour as they lay dying.
When their victims' ghosts close in around,
God alone may forgive their indifference now.
Now I scream at the sky, there's got to be a reason why.
Bewildered and grieved, I'm tangled and mired.
My love is gone, oh, the Triangle fire.
The world is so cold, desperate and dire.
I've lost everything in the Triangle fire.
I've lost everything in the Triangle fire.