Paddy from Clare
I was processed for the rent and being short of a gale
I sold my last beast in the town of Rathkeal
To a crafty old codger that I met at the fair
They call him old Paddy,the jobber from Clare.
When he bargain was made and the money paid down
I called for a treat before leaving the town,
When he swallowed his porter he grinned like a bear;
'Tis like creamery milk says the jobber from Clare.
He said "Bring the same" but I answered him no,
I said 'twas a shame to be drinking also,
But get something to eat, you are hungry I swear,
"Ah, there's nothing like eating" says Paddy from Clare.
He says "Praties are scarce and the meal is too high,
The fodder is bad and the cattle will die,
Famine is coming,you had better prepare,
'Tis the end of the world." says Paddy from Clare.
But the latest of fashions our servants display,
They are jazzing the night and asleep all the day,
And all the young girls are a-bobbing their hair,
"Twill make stuffing for saddles" said Paddy from Clare.
"Each swanky spailpin has a watch and a chain
And rides his machine though the mud and the rain
And soon they'll demand rashers as soon as you're there,
No wonder we're broke" said old Paddy from Clare.
He finished his rashers and his tea he gulped down,
We shook hands and parted at the end of the town,
But 'tis often I laugh though my pockets are bare
When I think of old Paddy, the Jobber from Clare.