Letras
'Twas the night before we marched, and my head was getting cloudy
The drinks were a-flowin' and the men were getting rowdy
As the room started spinning I sat down to watch the fun
It was then I remembered where I'd laid down my gun
In burst Sergeant Kerry, wide-eyed and wary, looking like he'd blown his fuse
He said, "Murphy, you fool, the side that claims you will be the one to lose
So I won't bring you to heel, I'll cut you a deal and leave you to your whiskey and beer
Go where the door shoves ya, I'll speak no ills of ya – as long you never say you were here"
A bottle of whiskey, a bottle of rum
One harmless mistake and me fighting days are done
But I swear to those poor sods, when I go abroad
I'll make it back with far fewer bullet holes
It's just like that old bastard to give me such a rub
So while the men marched to the shore, I marched to the pub
I said to Ciara, "would you kindly fill me glass?"
But she was busy telling all the men to stop staring at her…
Alas, I vow never to suffer poor service, so I took it upon myself
To venture to the storage room where she keeps the top shelf
Nectar of the gods, how sweet thine are, but in my haste for more
I stumbled on a bracket, made quite a racket, and a thousand gallons rushed across the floor
A bottle of whiskey, a bottle of rum
By my unwitting hands the pub has come undone
But I swear to the bar-a, and sweet Ciara
I'll pay my debt in full upon my return
I sauntered, dejected, down to the harbor
Hoping with me trinkets and change I could barter
When a raucous bunch of gentlemen, taken with me attire
They clubbed me with a poker they'd found by the fire
All was black, no memory came back, and I found myself in a cargo hold
I climbed to the deck, saw the flags a-flyin' and felt my blood turn ice-cold
A bottle of whiskey, a bottle of rum
A prisoner of war, what have I done?
I longed for the bar-a, and sweet Ciara
So I went down below to have a smoke and think
I reached in me pocket, delighted to see
They'd left my pipe to me