Published byHarding Bros. . New York.
A fortnight ago myself and Johnny Brannigan,
Timothy McCarthy, Mike and Patsy Flannagan,
Went for a spree down to Paddy Murphy’s Restaurant,
Being fond of fun of course we took some girls along.
When we got to Murphy’s we call’d for half a gallon in,
Also, some whiskey, for all the girls were palling in;
When he brought it in we said, stick it up to Flaherty,
He’s our gaffer, and we’ll pay you back on Saturday.
Murphy said no! he had quite enough of us,
Strapp’d us before, but he had never got the stuff of us,
Said we’d done him brown once but we couldn’t do him black again.
Pick’d up the drink and was going to take it back again.
Up jumped McCarthy and ask’d him what he meant by it?
If he took it back surely he would repent of it
Murphy said Bah! and was going to take the pitcher off.
When up jump’d Callaghan and nearly knocked his snitcher off,
Murphy scream’d out fire and suicide,
Brannagan, to help him, went over to his side.
He got a kick which knock’d his darby kelly in,
Then he called the barman and big Patsy Kelly in.
In came Kelly and he’d a lot of swagger, too,
Brought in a poker, blunderbuss, and dagger, too.
He got a clout, and McCarthy went to hit him down.
When he plunged the dagger three inches in his sit me down!
Mrs. Murphey roared out fire and murder,
And the girls, to have revenge, tore all the hair off her;
Murphy and his barman to rise were not able,
There they lay stretch’d out on a table.
Smash went the jugs, and smash went the glasses, too;
We were enjoying it, and so were the lasses, too.
Smash went the windows, and smash went the furniture,
Then on tho fire we put it for to burn it sure!
Then in the bar we turn’d the rum and whiskey on,
That’s what the boys and girls got so frisky on;
Bridget Magee and that thief, Johnny Brannagan,
Served us a trick which forget we never shall again.
Only because they couldn’t get a drop of gin,
What did they do, but they went and fetch’d a Bobby in;
He got his head split and soon we had the laugh of him;
When he was down we used his own club on him;
He blew his whistle when up came a score of them.
Privates, Detectives, Sergeants, and more of them.
They were no use for soon we got the best of them;
When they were down we danc’d on every chest of them;
One got away, and it’s true what I told yers,
Came back again with a Regiment of Soldiers,
Also a Magistrate, who, ‘cos we wouldn’t quiet act,
What did he do but he went and read the Riot Act!
We left sixty dead upon the floor, we did,
Then we done a slope out of the back door, we did;
They got a warrant out for murder and for robbery,
But for me I’ve done with the jobbery;
I’m going away as soon as day is dawning,
I’m going to sail for Austrailia in the morning.