From the recording Rocky Road to Dublin

This traditional Irish song is usually sung a capella, but is brought to life with instruments in this lively version.


In the merry month of May, From my home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam, so sad and broken hearted, Saluted me father dear, Kissed me darlin' mother, Drank a pint of beer, My grief and tears to smother, Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born, I cut a stout blackthorn To banish ghost and goblin, In a brand new pair of brogues, Rattlin’ o'er the bogs, And frightened all the dogs On the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four five, Hunt the hare and trodden her Down the rocky road And all the ways to Dublin, Whack-fol-lol-de-ra.
In Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary, Started by daylight, Next mornin',bright and early
Took a drop of the pure, To keep my heart from sinking That's the Paddy’s cure, Whenever he's on for drinking. To see the lasses smile, Laughing all the while, At me curious style, 'Twould set your heart a-bubblin'. They asked if I was hired, The wages I required, Till I was almost tired Of the rocky road to Dublin.
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity, To be so soon deprived A view of that fine city. Then I took a stroll All among the quality, My bundle it was stolen In a neat locality; Something crossed my mind, Then I looked behind; No bundle could I find, Upon my stick a wobblin'. Enquirin' for the rogue, They said me Connacht brogue, Wasn't much in vogue, On the rocky road to Dublin.
From there I got away, My spirits never failin' Landed on the quay Just as the ship was sailin'; Captain at me roared, Said that no room had he, When I jumped aboard A cabin found for Paddy, Down among the pigs Skipped some funny rigs, I danced some hearty jigs, The water round me bubblin', When off to Holyhead, I wished myself was dead, Or better far instead On the rocky road to Dublin.
The boys of Liverpool, When we safely landed, Called meself a fool; I could no longer stand it; Blood began to boil, Temper I was losin', Poor old Erin's isle They began abusin', "Hurrah my soul," sez I, Shillelagh I let fly; Some Galway boys were by and Saw I was a hobble in,
With a loud hurray, They joined in the affray. We quickly cleared the way, For the rocky road to Dublin.