TIM Murphy’s gon’ walkin’ wid Maggie O’Neill,
O chone!
If I was her muther, I’d frown on sich foolin’,
O chone!
I’m sure its unmutherlike, darin’ an’ wrong
To let a gyrul hear ‘tell the sass an’ the song
Of every young felly that happens along,
O chone!
An’ Murphy, the things that’s be’n sed of his doin’,
O chone!
‘Tis a cud that no dacent folks wants to be chewin’,
O chone!
If he came to my door wid his cane on a twirl,
Fur to thry to make love to you, Biddy, my girl,
Ah, wouldn’t I send him away wid a whirl,
O chone!
They say the gossoon is indecent and dirty,
O chone!
In spite of his dressin’ so.
O chone!
Let him dress up ez foine ez a king or a queen,
Let him put on more wrinkles than ever was seen,
You’ll be sure he’s no match for my little colleen,
O chone!
Faith the two is comin’ back an’ their walk is all over,
O chone!
‘Twas a pretty short walk fur to take wid a lover,
O chone!
Why, I believe that Tim Murphy’s a kumin’ this way,
Ah, Biddy jest look at him steppin’ so gay,
I’d niver belave what the gossipers say,
O chone!
He’s turned in the gate an’ he’s coming a caperin’,
O chone!
Go Biddy, go quick an’ put on a clane apern,
O chone!
Be quick as ye kin fur he’s right at the dure;
Come in, master Tim, fur ye’re welcome I’m shure.
We were talkin’ o’ ye jest a minute before.
O chone!
Reading Time: < 1 minute
