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Bhí mise tigh an mhinistéara aréir, Bhí ithe agus ól ag an duine sin, Bhí triúr cailíní óga ann Is nach trua gan mé pósta le duine acu.
Agus fill, fill a rúin ó, Fill a rúin ó is ná himigh uaim, Fill ar do dheartháirín ó Agus gheobhaidh tú an ghlóir má fhilleann tú.
Ó, chonaic mé iníon an mhinistéara aréir, Hata agus clóca dubh uirthi, Ó arm coat ’dtína dhá glúin, Is nár gheall leis an bpúca chugat í!
Agus fill, fill a rúin ó, Fill a rúin ó is ná himigh uaim, Fill ar do mháthairín ó Agus gheobhaidh tú an ghlóir má fhilleann tú.
Ó, b’fhearr liomsa amuigh ar an tsráid, Mo mhaide i mo láimh agus pluid orm, Ná thuas ar fhuinneogaí arda Ag éisteacht le dántaireacht ministéara.
Agus fill, fill a rúin ó, Fill a rúin ó is ná himigh uaim, Fill ar do chuisle is do stóirín, Is gheobhaidh tú an ghlóir má fhilleann tú.
Ó, shiúil mise abhus agus thall, I Móta Ghráinneoige sea rugadh mé, Ní fhaca mé aon iontas go fóill Ach an Sagart Ó Domhnaill ina mhinistéara.
Tá mallacht na sagairt ’s na mbráithre Leat i do mhála ag imeacht duit, Ach is measa duit mallacht do mháthara Ná a bhfaca tú ariamh den chineál sin.
Agus fill, fill a rúin ó, Fill a rúin ó is ná himigh uaim, Fill ar do mháthairín go deo Agus gheobhaidh tú an ghlóir má fhilleann tú.
Mo mhallacht go deo do na mná, Ó, siad a bhain díomsa mo shagairtín, Léigh sé an t-aifreann Dé Domhnaigh ’S bhí sé Dé Luain ina mhinistéara.
Agus fill, fill a rúin ó, Fill a rúin ó is ná himigh uaim, Fill ar do phobal faoi dhó Is tá Banríon na Glóire ag feitheamh leat.
I was of the Ministers house last night, was eating and drinking at the person, were three young girls there is no compassion without whom I married.
And treachery, treachery resolutions from, Return to resolutions that do not hang me, Return to my pet and you will get the glory if you return.
Oh, I saw the Ministers daughter last night, hat and her black cloak, from army coat 'Scrolls two generation, is due to the bpúca not send it!
And treachery, treachery resolutions from, Return to resolutions that do not hang me, Return to your Mother from and you will get the glory if you return.
Oh, I'd prefer the street outside, my stick in my hand and I blanket, not above a high fhuinneogaí Listening ministéara dántaireacht.
And treachery, treachery resolutions from, Return to resolutions that do not hang me, Return to your pulse and your Sweetheart, is you get the glory if you return.
Oh, and here I walked over, I Ghráinneoige Motte yes I was born, I have not seen any surprises yet But where the Ministers Priest O'Donnell.
A curse of priests and brothers to You in your bag leaving you, But you worst curse for mháthara Do not you ever seen such.
And treachery, treachery resolutions from, Return to resolutions that do not hang me, Return to your Mother forever and you get the glory if you return.
My curse forever for women, Oh, they were my shagairtín díomsa, he read the Sunday mass And it was a Monday the Ministers.
And treachery, treachery resolutions from, Return to resolutions that do not hang me, Return to your community twice a Queen of Glory is awaiting you.
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