One mornin', I was diggin' the land with me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand.
And says I to meself, "What a pity to see such a fine strappin' lad footin' turf round Tralee."
So I b___ered me brogues, shook hands with me spade and went off to the fair like a dashing young blade.
And up comes the sergeant and he asks me to list?" "Arra, sergeant a-grah stick a bob in me fist".

Chorus:
With me toor in men ya, toor in men ya
With me toor in men, toor in men, toor in men ya

Then up came a captain, a man of great fame, who straight ways enquires me country and name;
Well, I told him before as I'd tell him again that me father and mother were two Kerrymen.
Well the first thing they gave me it was a red coat with a fine strap of leather to tie 'round me throat.
The next thing they gave me-I asked "What was that?" and they told me it was c___ade for me hat!

The next thing they gave me they called it a horse with a saddle and bridle, me two legs across.
Well, I gave 'er the whip and I gave 'er the steel and, Oh Holy Mother! She went like an eel.
The next thing they gave me, they called it a gun, with powder and shot and a place for me thumb.
First she spat fire, and then she spat smoke and gave a great leap and me shoulder near broke.

The next place they took us was down to the sea, aboard of a war ship, bound for the Crimee,
Three sticks in the middle, all rolled round with sheet, she walked on the water without any feet.
When at Balaclava we landed quite sound, both cold, wet and hungry we lay on the ground.
Next morning for action the bugle did call, and we had a hot breakfast of powder and ball.

We fought at the Alma likewise Inkerman and the Russians wailed us at the Redan.
While scaling the wall there meself lost an eye and a big Russian bullet ran away with me thigh.
Was there we lay bleedin' streched on the cold ground, both heads, legs & arms were all scattered around.
I thought of me Ma and he clavens were nigh, sure they'd bury me decent and raise a loud cry

The doctor was called and he soon staunched me blood, and they gave me a fine elegant leg made of wood;
And they gave me a pension of tenpence a day And contented with Sheila I live on half-pay.
Now that was the story my grandfather told, As he sat by the fire all withered and old.
"Remember," said he, "that the Irish fight well, But the Russian artillery's hotter than Hell."

See also:
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89.44
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