Mrs. McGrath

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“Oh, Mrs. McGrath,” the sergeant said,

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“Would you like to make a soldier out of your son, Ted?

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With a scarlet coat, and a big cocked hat,

Sure, Mrs. McGrath, wouldn’t you like that?”


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With your too- ri- aa, fol the diddle da,

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Too- ri- you- ri too- ri- aa.
Now Mrs. McGrath lived by the seashore
For the space of seven long years or more;
Till she say a big ship sail into the bay,
“Here’s my son, Ted, will ye clear the way!”

“Oh, Captain, dear, where have ye been? ;
Have you been in the Meditereen?
Will ye tell me the news of my son, Ted?
Is the poor boy livin’, or is he dead?”

Ah, well up comes Ted without any legs
An in their place he had two wooden pegs,
Well, she kissed him a dozen times or two,
Saying “Glory to God?, sure it wouldn’t be you!”

“Oh were ye drunk, or were ye blind
That ye left your two fine legs behind?
Or was it while walkin’ on the sea
A big fish ate your legs from the knees?”

“Well, I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t blind
When I left my two fine legs behind.
But a cannon ball, on the fifth of May,
Tore my two fine legs away.”

“Oh, Teddy, me boy,” the old widow cried,
“Yer two fine legs were yer mammy’s pride,
Them stumps of a tree wouldn’t do at all,
Why didn’t ye run from the big cannon ball?”

“Well, all foreign wars I do proclaim
Between Don Juan and the King of Spain,
And bejasus I’ll make them rue the time
That they swept the legs from a child of mine.”