Page:Song book (1).pdf/6

 When Paddy found out a small error on board,
 * The whisky, alas! was gunpowder.

With sudden explosion he flew o'er the ocean,
 * And high in air sported a log:

Yet instinct prevails, when philosophy fails,
 * So be kept a tight hold of the keg.

But Dermont bawled out with a terrible shout,
 * I'm not to be choused, Mr Wiseman;

If you do not come down, I'll run into the town,
 * And by St Patrick I'll tell the Exciseman.

A wee, wee man came to our toun en,
 * Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee:

An' he sang sae sweet, that the hale o' our men
 * Lap aff their looms the carle to see.

His cap was red, an' his breeks were green,
 * Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee;

An' his jacket the shortest that ever was seen,
 * An' the queerest colour you ever did see.

His nose was as flat, as tho back o' my han',
 * Fiddledum, faddledum, feo, fee, fee;

An' his feet wad hae covered an acre o' lan',
 * Yet his Boots cam up o'er the lid o' his knee.

His e'en were grey without ony white,
 * Fiddledum, faddledum, fee, fee, fee;

An' his teeth were as black as the middle o' night,
 * When the moon has forsaken this countrie.