Holiday

St. Patrick's Day Menu

St. Patrick's Day History

St. Patrick & Snakes

St. Patrick's Day Crafts

St. Patrick's Day Folk Songs

St. Patrick's Day Recipes

St. Patrick's Day Recipes 2

About Leprechauns

Shop Irish


Network
123 Personals Net
123 Recipes Net
123 Singles Net
123 Coupon Net
123 Drinks Net
123 Crafts Net
123 Pills Net
123 Tips Net


St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day Folk Songs

PATRICK WAS A GENTLEMAN

Patrick was a gentleman, came from decent people
Built the church in Dublin town, and on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher, his mother was a Brady
His aunt was an O'Shaughnessy, his uncle was a Grady
The Wicklow hills are very high, and so's the Hill of Howth, sir
But there's a hill much higher still, much higher than them both, sir
On the top of this high hill St. Patrick preached his sermom
Which drove the frogs into the bogs and banished all the vermin

There's not a mile of Eirann's isle where dirty vermin musters
But there he put his dear fore-foot and murdered them in clusters
The frogs went hop and the toads went pop slapdash into the water
And the snakes committed suicide to save themselves from slaughter
Nine hundred thousand reptiles blue he charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them in Killaloe on soups and second courses
Where blind worms crawling in the grass disgusted all the nation
Right down to hell with a holy spell he changed their situation

No wonder that them Irish lads should be so gay and frisky
Sure St. Pat he taught them that as well as making whiskey
No wonder that the saint himself should understand distilling
For his mother kept a shebeen shop in the town of Enniskillen
Was I but so fortunate as to be back in Munster
I'd be bound that from that ground I never more would once stir
There St. Patrick planted turf and cabbages and praties
Pigs galore, *mo gra/, mo sto/r, altar boys and ladies.
--

*my love, my treasure

Send Flowers & Gift Baskets Online!

HOLY GROUND

Fare thee well my lovely Dinah
A thousand times adieu
For we're going away from the Holy Ground
And the girls we all love true
We will sail the salt seas over
And we'll return for sure
To see again the girls we love
And the Holy Ground once more
(Fine girl you are!)

Chorus You're the girl I do adore
And still I live in hope to see
The Holy Ground once more
(Fine girl you are!)

And now the storm is over
And we are safe and well
We will go into a public house
And we will drink our fill
We will drink strong ales and porter
And make the rafters roar
And when our money is all spent
We'll go to sea once more
(Fine girl you are!)

Old Irish Blessing

Old Irish Blessing May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face, The rains fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again, May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

May God be with you and bless you; May you see your children's children.
May you be poor in misfortune, Rich in blessings,
May you know nothing but happiness From this day forward.
May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back
May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home
And may the hand of a friend always be near.

May green be the grass you walk on, May blue be the skies above you
May pure be the joys that surround you, May true be the hearts that love you.
SEVEN DRUNKEN NIGHTS

As I went home on Monday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door, where my old horse should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that horse outside the door, where my old horse should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a lovely sow that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but a saddle on a sow, sure, I never saw before

As I went home on Tuesday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door, where my old coat should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that coat behind the door, where my old coat should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a woolen blanket that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but buttons on a blanket, sure, I never saw before

As I went home on Wednesday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe upon the chair, where my old pipe should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a lovely tin-whistle, that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but tobacco in a tin-whistle, sure, I never saw before

As I came home on Thursday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beside the bed, where my old boots should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns them boots beside the bed where my old boots should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
They're two lovely flower pots my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but laces in flower pots I never saw before

As I came home on Friday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed, where my old head should be
I called my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
who owns that head upon the bed, where my old head should be
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
That's a baby boy, that my mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've traveled, a hundred miles or more
but a baby boy with his whiskers on, sure, I never saw before

As I came home on a Saturday night, as drunk as drunk could be
I spied two hands upon her breasts, where my old hands should be
I called to my wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who's hands are these upon your breasts, where my old hands should be?
Oh, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
'Tis nothing but a Living Bra Jane Russell gave to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
but fingernails on a Living Bra, I never saw before

Now when I came home on Sunday night, a little after three
I saw a man running out the door with his pants about his knee
So I called to my wife and I said to her: would you kindly tell to me
who was that man running out the door with his pants about his knee?
Oh you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool, and still you cannot see
Twas nothing but the tax collector the Queen sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled, a hundred miles or more
But an Englishman that could last 'till three I never saw before





Search the web:


Day
Copyright 123Holiday.Net