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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
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