A boat sailed out of Brandon in the year of 501
'twas a damp and dirty morning Brendan's voyage it began
Tired of thinning turnips and cutting curley kale
When he got back from the creamery he hoisted up the sail

He ploughed a lonely furrow to the north, south, east and west
Of all the navigators, St. Brendan was the best
When he got low of candles he was forced to make a stop
He tied up in Long Island and put America on the map

Did you know that Honolulu was found by a Kerry man
Who went on to find Australia then China and Japan
When he was touching 70, he began to miss the crack
Turning to his albatross, he says "I'm heading back"

"Is it right or left for Gibraltar"
"What tack do I take for Mizen Head?"
"I'd love to settle down near Ventry Harbour"
St. Brendan to his albatross he said

To make it fast he bent the mast and built up mighty steam
Around Terra del Fuego and up the warm Gulf Stream
He crossed the last horizon, Mt. Brandon was in sight
And then he cleared the customs into Dingle for the night

Oh, when he got the Cordon Bleu he went to douse the drought
He headed west to Kruger's* to murder pints of stout
Around by Ballyferriter and up the Conor Pass
He freewheeled into Brandon, the Saint was home at last

"Is it right or left for Gibraltar"
"What tack do I take for Mizen Head?"
"I'd love to settle down near Ventry Harbour"
St. Brendan to his albatross he said

The entire population came, the place was chock-a-block
Oh, love nor money wouldn't get your nose inside the shop
The fishermen hauled up their nets, the farmers left their hay
And the Kerry people know that Saints don't turn up every day

Everything was going great 'til Brendan did announce
His reason for returning was to try and set up house
The girls were flabbergasted at St. Bredan's neck
To seek a wife so late in life and him a total wreck

"Is it right or left for Gibraltar"
"What tack do I take for Mizen Head?"
"I'd love to settle down near Ventry Harbour"
St. Brendan to his albatross he said

Oh, worn down by rejection that pierced his humble pride
"Begod", says Brendan "If I run I'll surely catch the tide"
Turning on his sandals he made straight for the docks
And hauling up his anchor he cast off from the rocks

As he sailed past Inishvickallaun there stood the albatross
"I knew you'd never stick it out, 'tis great to see you boss"
"I'm bailing out" says Brendan, "I badly need a break
A fortnight is about as much as any aul' Saint could take"

"Is it right or left for Gibraltar"
"What tack do I take for Mizen Head?"
"I'd love to settle down near Ventry Harbour"
St. Brendan to his albatross he said


* Kruger Kavanagh's, de 'Nearest pub to the States'