He called me mongrel Irishman he called me bald and fat
And though i did take some offence i've been called worse than that
And next day he's regretting the things he say and do
But the boy gets drunk on one drink and the man takes quite a few.
He's an immature fellow for one of twenty two
And he has fathered children not much else he's been through
He has a drink on saturday it goes right to his head
And after he's regretting the things he done and said.
He's been in many bar brawls and he's oft been on the floor
And when he has a drink or two he comes and looks for more
And many the good beating he's been obliged to take
But he must lack in something if he can't learn from ache.
Last saturday i saw him down at the local bar
And he looked like a fellow who had been in a war
His nose was flat and bloodied his eyes were black and blue
He'd copped another beating 'so tell us something new'.
For hurting someone's feelings the price he has to pay
And i did not wish to meet him i looked the other way
He did not recognize me thanks be to god for that
As he might have called me mongrel, bald Irishman and fat.
When sober he's a nice man nice as you'd wish to meet
But liquor is his no no it changes him complete
When he goes in the bar room his past mistakes forgot
He must like taking punishment he must like it a lot.
His eyes are often swollen that can't be too much fun
And he's been often beaten and he has seldom won
He's an immature fellow for one of twenty two
And the boy gets drunk on one drink and the man takes quite a few.
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