The Errant Apprentice - Andy M. Stewart

When I was a young apprentice and less than compos mentis

I took leave of all my senses, with a maid I fell in love

Her ringlets so entwined me, Aphrodite’s smile did blind me

Cupid’s arrow struck behind me, and her father owned a pub

It was there I met my nemesis in her father’s licensed premises

Like the Seraphim of Genesis, sat Mary Ann Maguire

Arrayed in fine apparel, astride a porter barrel

She looked the kind of girl that, would fill you with desire

All the turtle doves were cooin' as I took to my wooin'

Her loveliness pursuin' in the springtime of that year

But she thought I should be older

And more gallant and much bolder

In the uniform of a soldier 'tis then she’d hold me dear

In extremis and euphoria I joined with Queen Victoria

For a spell of death or gloria, a-fighting with the Boers

To the wind I threw all caution, I’ll return with fame and fortune

And together make a portion of matrimony’s chores

On the gravestone of her mother, she swore she’d love no other

But I did soon discover that she played me for a berk

For lady-luck had beached me and intelligence had reached me

Whilst I’d been over seas she had married to a Turk

Well me I then deserted for to find the girl who’d flirted

But to Ireland I reverted for my jealousy was roused

In Maguire’s pub in Derry, I found him making merry

With his arms around my Mary as together they caroused

So I took my time and waited until his thirst was sated

And home he navigated through the streets of Derry town

At his lodgings he stood knockin' and whilst they were unlockin'

I put a stone into a stockin' and on his head I brought it down

'Twas then the night’s serenity was rent with loud obscenity

And Ottoman profanity I could not understand

With an oath he made to grab me, with full intent to stab me

But as he tried to kebab me I was screaming up the strand

All around the town’s perimiter he chased me with his scimitar

A powerful passion limiter to an errant in his pride

Through the waterside he chased me, to the Bridge of Foyle he raced me

And at Derry Quay he faced me, so I jumped into the tide

Sure bravery’s no virtue when some heathen’s tryin' to hurt you

And all noble thoughts desert you when you see his curly knife

For there’s many things worth tryin' for and occasionally worth lyin' for

But there’s bugger-all worth dying for, so I’ll stick to the soldier’s life