Courtin' in the Kitchen
Come single belle and beau, unto me pay attention.
Don't ever fall in love, it's the devil's own invention.
For once I fell in love with a maiden so bewitchin',
Miss Henrietta Bell, down in Captain Kelly's kitchen.
With me toora loora li, and me toora loora laddy,
With me toora loora li, and me toora loora laddy.
At the age of seventeen, I was 'prenticed to a grocer
Not far from Stephen's Green, where Miss Bell used to go, sir.
Her manners were sublime, and she set me heart a-twitchin'
And she invited me to a hoolie in the kitchen.
Now next Sunday being the day we were to have the flare-up,
I dressed myself quite gay, an' I frizzed and oiled my hair up.
The Captain had no wife, and he had gone a-fishin'
And we kicked up high life, down below-stairs in the kitchen.
With her arms around my waist, she slyly hinted marriage,
To the door in dreadful haste came Captain Kelly's carriage!
Her eyes soon filled with hate and poison she was spittin'
When the captain at the door walked right into the kitchen.
When the Captain came downstairs, though he saw my situation,
In spite of all my prayers I was marched off to the station.
For me they'd take no bail, though to get home I was itchin',
So I had to tell the tale of how I came into the kitchen.
I said she did invite me, but she gave a flat denial.
For assault she did indict me, and I was sent for trial.
She swore I robbed the house, in spite of all her screechin',
And I got six months hard, for my courting in the kitchen.
Tim Finnegan lived on Walkin Street,
A gentle Irishman mighty odd,
Had a beautiful brogue, both rich and sweet,
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now, Tim had a sort of a tipplin' way,
With a love of the liquor he was born.
To help him on his way each day,
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn!
Whack fol the dah, dance your partner,
Round the floor your trotters shake.
Wasn't it the truth I told you?
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake!
One morning Tim was rather full,
His head felt heavy, which made him shake.
He fell from the ladder and broke his skull,
They carried him home, his corpse to wake.
They wrapped him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
With a gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head!
Well, his friends assembled at his wake
And Missus Finnegan called for lunch.
First they brought in tea and cake,
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch!
Biddy O'Brien began to cry,
"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
Tim avourneen, why did you die?"
Well, "Hush your gob!" said Paddy McGee!
Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job,
"Oh Biddy," says she, "ye're wrong, I'm sure."
Biddy gave her a belt on the gob
And sent her sprawling on the floor!
Then the war did soon engage,
'Twas woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage,
And a row and a ruction soon began.
Then Mickey Maloney ducked his head
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him.
It missed, and falling on the bed,
The liquor scattered over Tim.
Tim revives, see how he rises,
Timothy rising from the bed,
Saying "Whirl your whiskey 'round like blazes,
Thunderin' Jaysus, do ye think I'm dead?""
Leaving of Liverpool
Fare thee well to Prince's Landing Stage,
Mersey River, fare thee well.
I am bound for Californ-I-A
But I know that I'll return someday.
So fare thee well, my own true love,
When I return, united we will be.
It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me,
But, my darling, when I think of thee.
I have signed on a Yankee sailin' ship,
Davy Crockett is her name.
And Burgess is the captain of her,
And they say that she's a floatin' shame.
Oh, I have sailed with this Burgess once before
And I think that I know him quite well.
For if a man is a sailor, he can get along,
If not, he's in floating Hell.
The sun is on the harbor, love,
And I wish that I could be thain
Because I know it will be some long long time
Before I see you again.
There's a neat little lass and her name is Mari Mac,
Make no mistake, she's the girl I'm gonna track.
Lots of other fellows want to get her on her back
But I'm thinking that they'll have to get up early!
Mari Mac's mother's making Mari Mac marry me!
My mother's making me marry Mari Mac!
I'm gonna marry Mari for me Mari's taking care of me,
We'll all be making merry when I marry Mari Mac!
Now, Mari and her mother are an awful lot together,
In fact you hardly see one without the other.
People often wonder if it's Mari or her mother
Or both of them together I am courting.
The wedding's on a Wednesday, everything's arranged,
Soon her name will be changed to mine unless her mind be changed.
Making the arrangements, I'm feeling quite deranged,
Marriage is an awful undertaking.
Sure to be a grand affair, grander than a fair,
There's going to be a fork and plate for every man that's there.
I'll be a bugger if I don't get my share,
If I don't, I'll be very much mistaken.