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]


AIR: Maggie in the Woods
SOURCE: Christy Moore Songbook, F. Connolly, Ed. (Brandon, London, 1984)
p.60.
RPf
OCT98