Greenfields Együttes - St. Patrick Was A Gentleman dalszöveg (lyrics)
[Greenfields Együttes - St. Patrick Was A Gentleman dalszöveg lyrics]
Saint Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
In Dublin town he built a church
And put it on a steeple
His father was a Callahan his
Mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O’ Shaughnessy
And his uncle was a Brady
There’s not a mile in Ireland’s Isle
Where the dirty vermin musters
Where’er he put his dear forefoot
He murder’d them in clusters
The toads went hop, the frogs went plop
Slap das into the water
And the beasts committed suicide
To save themselves from slaughter
The Wicklow hills are very high, and
So’s the hill of Howth, sir
But there’s a hill much higher still
Ay, higher than them both, sir
’Twas on the top of his hill
St patrick preach’d the "sarmint"
That drove the frogs into the bogs
And bothered all the "varmint"
No wonder that the Irish lads should
Be so gay and risky
Sure St pat he taught them that
As well as making whiskey
No wonder that the saint
Himself should understand distilling
For his mother kept a shebeen shop
In the town of Enniskillen
Then success to bold St patrick’s fist
He was a saint so clever
He gave the snakes and awful twist
And banished them for ever lalalalala
He came from decent people
In Dublin town he built a church
And put it on a steeple
His father was a Callahan his
Mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O’ Shaughnessy
And his uncle was a Brady
There’s not a mile in Ireland’s Isle
Where the dirty vermin musters
Where’er he put his dear forefoot
He murder’d them in clusters
The toads went hop, the frogs went plop
Slap das into the water
And the beasts committed suicide
To save themselves from slaughter
The Wicklow hills are very high, and
So’s the hill of Howth, sir
But there’s a hill much higher still
Ay, higher than them both, sir
’Twas on the top of his hill
St patrick preach’d the "sarmint"
That drove the frogs into the bogs
And bothered all the "varmint"
No wonder that the Irish lads should
Be so gay and risky
Sure St pat he taught them that
As well as making whiskey
No wonder that the saint
Himself should understand distilling
For his mother kept a shebeen shop
In the town of Enniskillen
Then success to bold St patrick’s fist
He was a saint so clever
He gave the snakes and awful twist
And banished them for ever lalalalala