Patsy McCann lyrics

There's a man by the name of Mike Hogan

Who's plague-in' me out of me life,

He has a big daughter named Brigit

And he wants me to make her me wife.

She stands six foot four in her stockings

Her waist of me-self would make three

And whenever I'm standing beside her

Me elbows just reach to her knees.

Chorus:

Patsy McCann will you marry me daughter,

Oh! Patsy McCann she's the girl you'll wed;

Ten golden sovereigns down I will give you,

A three legged stool and a fine feather bed.

Saint Peter, Saint Paul and Saint Patrick

All the pictures that hang on the wall,

I'll throw them all into the bargain,

If you'll marry my daughter at all.

Now he says to me now look here Patsy,

You may travel the country around

And you'll say when you've finished your traveling

That a better girl couldn't be found.

I can't walk a yard in the street, sure,

Neither by night or by day

For now there's a lot of blackguards

Who mimic the old man and say:

Well I married that big Brigit Hogan

And she's mine now for better or worse,

But the blessing that she should have brought me

Would appear to have changed a curse.

She strikes me and bites me and flays me

She ties me lest I run away,

This six foot four beauty's a caution

But her father was worse for to say: -

• Artist:The Irish Rovers