Christy Moore - McIlhatton lyrics

In Glenravel's Glen there lives a man
Whom some would call a god
For he could cure your shakes with a bottle
Of his stuff would cost you thirty bob
Come winter, summer, frost all over
A jiggin' Spring on the breeze
In the dead of night a man
Steps by, "McIlhatton, if you please, "

McIlhatton you blurt we need you
Cry a million shaking men
Where are your sacks of barley
Will your likes be seen again?
Here's a jig to the man and a reel to the
Drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poitín
Cure your company up above

There's a wisp of smoke to the south of the
Glen and the poitín is on the air
The birds in the burrows and the rabbit's
In the sky and there's drunkards everywhere
At Skerries Rock the fox is out
And begod he's chasing the hounds
And the only thing in decent shape
Is buried beneath the ground
McIlhatton you blurt we need you
Cry a million shaking men
Where are your sacks of barley
Will your likes be seen again?
Here's a jig to the man and a reel to the
Drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poitín
Cure your company up above

At McIlhatton's house the fairies are out
And dancing on the hobs
The goat's collapsed and the dog has run
Away and there's salmon down the bogs
He has a million gallons of wash and
The peelers are on the Glen
But they'll never catch that hackler cos
He's not comin' home again

McIlhatton you blurt we need you
Cry a million shaking men
Where are your sacks of barley
Will your likes be seen again?
Here's a jig to the man and a reel to the
Drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poitín
Cure your company up above

McIlhatton you blurt we need you
Cry a million shaking men
Where are your sacks of barley
Will your likes be seen again?
Here's a jig to the man and a reel to the
Drop and a swing to the girl he loves
May your fiddle play and poitín
Cure your company up above