The Rocky Road to Dublin

A brand new pair of broads to ride with the bargs and frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin. One, two, three, three, four, five. Well, in the merry month, I get from me—oh, My started—let the girls at Tulman get a groovin' head. Salute, Father Deac, you set me, darling mother, Drink a pint and give my grief and taste to your mother.