Christy Moore - St. Patrick Was A Gentleman lyrics
[Christy Moore - St. Patrick Was A Gentleman lyrics]
Saint Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
In Dublin town he built a church
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Callahan
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was O'Shaughnessy and
Uncle he was Brady
Success to bold Saint Patrick's fist
He was a Saint so clever
He gave the snakes an awful twist
And banished them forever
There's not a smile in Ireland's isle
Where the dirty vermin musters
Where'er he put his dear forefoot
He murdered them in clusters
The toads went hop, the frogs went plop
Slap dash into the water
And the beasts committed suicide to
Save themselves from slaughter
Nine hundred thousand vipers blue he
Charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them at Killaloo
An' in the second courses
When blind worms crawling on the
Grass disgusted all the nation
He gave them a rise and opened their
Eyes to a sense of their situation
The Wicklow hills are very high and
So's the hill of Howth, sir
But there's a hill much higher still
Ay, higher then them both, sir
And it was on the top of his hill
Saint Patrick preached the "Sarmint"
That drove the frogs into the bogs
And bothered all the "varmint"
He came from decent people
In Dublin town he built a church
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Callahan
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was O'Shaughnessy and
Uncle he was Brady
Success to bold Saint Patrick's fist
He was a Saint so clever
He gave the snakes an awful twist
And banished them forever
There's not a smile in Ireland's isle
Where the dirty vermin musters
Where'er he put his dear forefoot
He murdered them in clusters
The toads went hop, the frogs went plop
Slap dash into the water
And the beasts committed suicide to
Save themselves from slaughter
Nine hundred thousand vipers blue he
Charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them at Killaloo
An' in the second courses
When blind worms crawling on the
Grass disgusted all the nation
He gave them a rise and opened their
Eyes to a sense of their situation
The Wicklow hills are very high and
So's the hill of Howth, sir
But there's a hill much higher still
Ay, higher then them both, sir
And it was on the top of his hill
Saint Patrick preached the "Sarmint"
That drove the frogs into the bogs
And bothered all the "varmint"