Morrow St. Patrick's Day, the first day of the session,
And if the day is cold wet, not colder than the fate,
The oaths coming down on me and quite a lot of proof,
Most consist of those gentlemen superintendent said that the creation róipín.

My pet is loyal, bring home my hat,
My socks and my main Ballycotton bhrógaí colored brown,
And recite to my mother for the quarter on the bed,
That the narrow róipín hemp to be where my charabhata.

Hurley is my ball and my curb under my bed,
BOC and me to meet initially as high as the moon,
My precious mountain south Stalin me at home,
And have my name in the papers tomorrow in Clonmel.

Not without pity I had come in m'iascaire side Mountain Home,
Or in south m'eala bhántaí clúmhachmhar on Lough Erne,
I James Murphy, the best man in all of Ireland,
But this meeting will see me again at the Mountain Day.

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