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Viewing Lyrics for Nell Flahertys Drake:
| | | Artist: | Unknown |
| | Album: | Unknown | | Track: | Nell Flahertys Drake | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 2 | | | | Lyrics: | Nell Flaherty's Drake
Oh, my name it is Neil, quite candid I tell,
And I lived in
Clonmell, which I'll never deny,
I had a large drake, and the truth for to speak,
My
grandmother left me, and she going to die;
He was wholesome and sound; he weighed twenty
pound,
And the universe 'round I would rove for his sake.
Bad luck to the robber, be he
drunk or sober,
That murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake.
His neck it was green, he
was rare to be seen,
He was fit for a Queen of the highest degree,
His body so white, it
would give you delight,
He was fat, plump and heavy, and brisk as a bee;
My dear little
fellow, his legs, they were yellow,
He would fly like a swallow, and swim like a
hake.
Until some wicked savage, to grease his white cabbage,
He murdered Nell Flaherty's
beautiful drake.
May his pig never grunt, may his cat never hunt,
May a ghost always
haunt him in the dead of the night,
May his hen never lay, may his ass never bray,
May his
coat fly away like an old paper kite;
May the lice and the fleas the wretch ever
tease,
May the pinching north breeze make him tremble and shake,
May a four-year-old bug
build a nest in the Iug,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
May his cock
never crow, may his bellows ne'er blow,
And a-pot or po, may he never have one,
May his
cradle not rock, may his box have no lock,
May his wife have no smock to shield her back
bone,
May his duck never quack, and his goose turn quite black
And pull down the turf with
his long yellow beak.
May scurvy and itch, not depart from the breech,
Of the monster that
murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
May his pipe never smoke, may his teapot be
broke,
And to add to the joke may his kettle not boil,
May he lay in the bed 'till the
moment he's dead
May he always be fed on lob-scouse and fish oil,
May he swell with the
gout, may his grinders fall out,
May he roar, bawl and shout, with the horrid
toothache.
May his temples wear horns, and all his toes corns,
The monster that murdered
NeII Flaherty's drake.
May his spade never dig, may his sow never pig,
Every nit on his
head be as large as a snall,
May his house have no thatch and his door have no latch,
Nay
his turkey not hatch, may the rats eat his meal,
May every old fairy fiom Cork to
Dunleary,
Dip him in snug and easy in some pond or lake,
Where the eel and the trout may
slime in the snout,
Of the monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
May his dog
yelp and growl with hunger and cold,
May his wife always scold 'till his brain goes
astray,
May the curse of each hag, that e'er carried a bag,
Alight on his nag till his
beard it turns grey,
May monkeys still bite him, and man-apes affright him,
And everyone
slight him asleep or awake,
May weasels still gnaw him, and jackdaws still claw him,
The
monster that murdered Nell Flaherty's Drake.
Then all the good news l have to
diffuse,
'Tis for Peter Hughes, and blind Peter McFree,
There's big nosed Bob Manson, and
buck-toothed Ned Hanson,
Each man has a grandson of my darling Drake,
My bird he had
dozens of nephews and cousins,
And one I must get or my heart it will break,
To keep my
mind easy or else l'll run crazy,
So this ends the song of Nell Flaherty's
Drake.
Recorded by Tommy Makem, Irish Songs of Rebellion
@Irish @rebel @animal
@bird
filename[ NELLFLAH
play.exe NELLFLAH
RG
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