Writings

I met my love by the gasworks wall Dreamed a dream by the old canal I kissed my girl by the factory wall Dirty old town, dirty old town Clouds are drifting across the moon Cats are prowling on their beat Springs a girl from the streets at night Dirty old town, dirty old town I heard a siren from the docks Saw a train set the night on fire I smelled the spring on the smokey wind Dirty old town, dirty old town I'm going to make me a big sharp axe Shining steel tempered in the fire I'll chop you down like an old dead tree Dirty old town, dirty old town

In the merry month of May from my home I started Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted Saluted Father dear, kissed my darlin' Mother Drank a pint of beer my grief and tears to smother Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born I cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghost and goblin, In a bran'new pair of brogues I rattled o'er the bogs And frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin, One, two, three, four five, hunt the hare and turn her Down the rocky roaad, and all the ways to Dublin Whack fol-lol-de-ra. In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary, Started by daylight next morning light and airy, Took a drop of the pure, to keep my heart from sinking, That's an frishman's cure, whene'er he's on for drinking, To see the lasses smile, laughing all the while, At my curious style, 'twould set your heart a-bubbling, They ax'd 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 out among the quality, My bundle it was stole in a neat locality; Something crossed my mind, then I looked behind, No bundle could I find upon me stick a-wobblin', Enquiring for the rogue, they said my Connaught brogue Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin. From there I got away my spirits never failing, Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing, Captain at me roared, said that no room had he, When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy Down among the pigs, I played some funny rigs 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 myself 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, my shillelagh I let fly, Some Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobble in, Then with a loud Hurrah, they joined in the affray, We quickly cleared the way, for the rocky road to Dublin.