St. Patrick's Day
St. Patrick's Day - Irish Ballad songtekst
Je score:
About a maid I'll sing this song sing rickety tickety tin ... who did not have her family long Not only did she do them wrong. She did everyone of them in. Them in. She did every one of them in One morning in a fit of pique sing rickety tickety tin ... she drowned her father in the creek The water tasted bad for a week And we had to make do with gin With gin. We had to make do with gin Her mother she could never stand sing rickety tickety tin ... stand and so a cyanide soup she planned The mother died with a spoon in her hand And her face in a hideous grin A grin. Her face in a hideous grin She set her sisters hair on fire sing rickety tickety tin ... and as the smoke and flame grew higher Danced around the funeral pyre Playing a violin O-lin. Playing a violin She tied her brother down with stones sing rickety tickety tin ... and sent him off to Davy Jones All they ever found were the bones And occassional pieces of skin Of skin. Occassional pieces of skin One day she had nothing to do sing rickety tickety tin ... she cut her baby brother in two Served him up in an Irish stew And invited the neighbors in -Bors in. Invited the neighbors in. When at last the police came by sing rickety tickety tin ... these terrible deeds she did not deny To do so she would have to lie And lying she knew was a sin A sin. Lying she knew was a sin Just one last thing before I go sing rickety tickery tin ... there is something I think you ought to know They had no proof so they let her go And they say she was tall and thin And thin. They say she was tall and thin. My tragic Tale I won't prolong sing rickety tickety tin ... and if you did not enjoy this song You've yourself to blame for letting me go on You should never have let me begin Begin. You should never have let me begin!