Jack Dempsey - Scythian

Well my father was a drunkard

And my stepma was a nag

And life in the streets of Dublin

Was nothing about to brag

With the work lines getting longer

And hunger on the breeze

Met a carney from Killarney

And he sang these words to me

Hey ho diddle-ee dee

If it’s free you want to be

Jump the ship to Boston

Fight a Yankee in the ring

Well I grew up as a fighter

My teacher was the streets

Where the taste of blood in your mouth

Was never out of reach

These fists were made of iron

But never made to steal

So I followed the words of a carney

And to Boston I did sail

So I slept under bridges

And jumped a train or three

An honest day’s work

Won’t take a Mick like me

I surely couldn’t dance

And hell if I could sing

But I’d pistol whip a Yankee

If you just put me in the ring

The brawlin' turned to fightin'

And the bruises turned to gold

The hunger turned to pride

As the wins began to roll

And I think about the carney

Who sang the distant chord

If you go and fight the Yankees

You’ll be champion of the world!