You asked me to sing you a verse of a song
It’s not very short and it’s not very long
Sure I never could sing and songs I have few
When a chap does his best what more can he do.
It was on Monday morning I strolled into Carn
I wasn’t long there till I meet wee Joe Barron
Say’s Joe I’m glad for to meet an old chum
We’ll go down to the Saddlers for a mouthful of rum.
We sat there for hours and never looked out
With hot rum and whiskey and plenty of stout
When we got to the market we did feel fine
And I bought an old mincer from wee Hughie Brien.
Sure Hughie he swore the cow she was fat
And on her old hurdie some man hung his hat
Sure the crowd gathered round and they started to laugh
Saying there’s changes in Carn since the cow was a calf.
To take Judy home sure it was a long road
I tried Eddie Doalty but he had a full load
I spit on my stick up Glentogher set sail
With my hat in my hand and the cow by the tail.
Going up till the Planting I felt very dry
At the Riverside Bar the cow I did tie
I sure she was dry too but I’m sorry to tell
I thought it too little enough for mysel’.
How long I spent there it’s more than I know
I reckon the rest of the journey was slow
I got home that morning sometime around dawn
I jumped into bed with my shoes and all on.
Early next morning she started to roar
I jumped out of bed I opened the door
She switched her auld tail stuck her head in the air
As much to say I’m for Burnfoot Fair.
My head it was sore and my feet were the same
And to make matters worse it was pouring the rain
I haltered auld Judy never waited on tae
I went up by The Line and on by the brae.
When I got till Burnfoot I’m sorry to tell
The trade it was bad and I didn’t sell
I went till Molloys and I went on the beer
Sent the cow on to Derry with a tag in her ear.
Till Derry next morning my fare I did pay
I still had a hope that the old doll might grade
But she was rejected which caused me to frown
I went straight down to Daltons my sorrows to drown.
Sure things weren’t working according to plan
I was thinking of ringing up two six nine one
But I met old McCormack who deals in the goats
And I gave her to him for a couple of notes.
I started next morning for the fair in Moville
To try when I’m at it to drink my fill
I hung around Packies till I couldn’t stand
I got home around midnight in Kinney’s auld van.
On Friday my spirits and pockets were low
I knew of no fair and nowhere to go
I just lay in bed never opened the doors
As like an auld dog lying licking his sores.
On Saturday evening I headed for Ture
I went straight up to Winnies to look for the cure
And what happened next I’ve no need to tell
I met a crowd there far worse than mysel’.
Take my advice if you ever go to Carn
Don’t go on the spree for you’ll sure come to harm
You may think you’re all right but like me you will find
You’ll end up buying mincers from wee Hughie Brien.