Patrick Was A Gentleman - Christy Moore

Patrick was a Gentleman

He ame from daycent people

He built a church in Dublin town

And on it put a steeple

His father was a Gallagher

His mother was a Grady

His aunt was an O’Shaughnessy

His uncle was a Brady

The Wicklow hills are very high

And so is the hill of Howth sir

But there’s a hill much higher still

Much higher than them both sir

On top of this high hill

St Patrick preached a sermon

Drove the frogs into the bogs

And banished all the vermin

There’s not a mile of Eireann’s Isle

Where dirty vermin musters

But there he put his dear fore-foot

And murdered them in clusters

The frogs went hop and the toads went pop

Slapdash into the water

The snakes committed suicide

To save themselves from slaughter

900,000 reptiles blue

He charmed with sweet discourses

Dined on them in Killaloe

On soups and second courses

Where blind worms crawling in the grass

Disgusted all the nation

Down to hell with a holy spell

He changed their situation

No wonder that them Irish lads

Should be so gay and frisky

Sure St Pat he taught them that

As well as making whiskey

No wonder that the Saint himself

Should understand distilling

His mother kept a sheebeen shop

In the town of Enniskillen

Was I but so fortunate

As to be back in Munster

I’d be bound that from that ground

I never more would once stir

There St Patrick planted turf

Cabbages and praties

Pigs galore, mo grá, mo stóir

Altar boys and ladies