| While in the merry month of May from me home I started,
|
| Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted.
|
| Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
|
| Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
|
| Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
|
| Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
|
| Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs
|
| And frightening all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
|
| One, two, three, four, five,
|
| Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
|
| All the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah!
|
| In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
|
| Started by daylight next morning blithe and early,
|
| Took a drop of pure to keep me heart from sinking;
|
| That’s a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking.
|
| See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
|
| At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
|
| Asked me was I hired, wages I required,
|
| I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.
|
| In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
|
| To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.
|
| So then I took a stroll, all among the quality;
|
| Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.
|
| Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
|
| No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
|
| «Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
|
| Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin».
|
| From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
|
| Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
|
| The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
|
| When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
|
| Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs,
|
| Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;
|
| When off Holyhead I wished me self was dead,
|
| Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
|
| Well the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
|
| Called me self a fool, I could no longer stand it.
|
| Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;
|
| Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
|
| «Hurrah me soul» says I, me Shillelagh I let fly.
|
| Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,
|
| With a load «hurray» joined in the affray.
|
| We quietly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.
|
| One, two, three, four, five,
|
| Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
|
| All the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah! |