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Mrs Mc Grath

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Traditional
  1. “Oh Mrs. McGrath!” the sergeant said,
    “Would you like to make a soldier of your son, Ted,
    With a scarlet coat and a big cocked hat?
    Now Mrs. McGrath, wouldn’t you like that?”
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  2. So Mrs. McGrath lived on the seashore,
    For the space of seven long years or more,
    Till she saw a big ship sailing into the bay,
    “Here’s my son, Ted, wisha clear the way”.
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  3. “Oh, Captain dear, tell me where have you been?
    Have you been on the Mediterr-aa-i-een?
    And have you any news of my son, Ted,
    Is the poor boy living or is he dead?”
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  4. Then up comes Ted, without any legs,
    And in their place he has two wooden pegs,
    She kissed him a dozen times or two,
    Saying “Glory be to heaven, lor it can’t be you”.
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  5. “Oh were you drunk or were you blind,
    That you left your two fine legs behind.
    Or was it walking on the sea,
    Wore your two fine legs from their knees away?”
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  6. “Oh, I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t blind,
    When I left me two legs behind.
    For a cannon-ball on the fifth of May,
    Shot me two fine legs from me knee away”.
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  7. “Oh then, Teddy, me boy”, the widow cried,
    “Yer two fine legs were yer mammy’s pride,
    Them two wooden stumps won’t do at all,
    Why didn’t yer run away from the big cannon-ball?”
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  8. All foreign wars I do proclaim Between Don John and the King of Spain,
    And by heavens I’ll make them rue the time
    That they swept the legs from a child of mine.
    Oh, then if I had you back again I’d ne’er let you go to fight the King of Spain.
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa
  9. For I’d rather my Ted as he used to be,
    Than the King of France and his whole navee.
    With your too-ria-aa, fol-the-did-dle-sa, Too-ri-oo-ri-oo-ri-aa

From the collection Songs From Hazzards Huzzah