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Patrick Was a Gentleman


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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]

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