they off to see the races With me wack fol the do fol The diddle idle day There were passengers from Limerick And passengers from Nenagh The boys of
are done I bet on a horse called the Bottle of Smoke And my horse won Stewards inquiries Swift and fiery I had the Bottle of Smoke Inquisitions and suppositions I
(Shane MacGowan) If I should fall from grace with god Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod But the angels won't receive me Let
(Instrumental)
Would be a fine vacation oh That may be so says I to him But tell me sergeant dearie-oh If I had a pack stuck upon my back Would I look fine and cheerie
away, you?ll hear me sing, we?re bound for South Australia As I walked out one morning fair, heave away, haul away 'Twas there I met Miss Nancy Blair
the last six years I've lived through terror And in the darkened streets the pain Oh how I long to find some solace In my mind I curse the strain So
(Shane MacGowan / Jem Finer) I am Francisco Vasquez Garcia I am welcome to Almeria We have sin gas and con leche We have fiesta and feria We have the
(Shane MacGowan) Sit down by the fire And I'll tell you a story To send you away to your bed Of the things You hear creeping When everyone's sleeping
's favourite bard Then we raised a glass to J.F.K. And a dozen more besides When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must have cried Thousands are
all these years I've had him on my back This debt cannot be paid with all your jack And as I sit and talk to you I see your face go white This shadow
and the worms crawl out The ones that go in are lean and thin The ones that crawl out are fat and stout Your eyes fall in and your teeth fall out Your
up the road to Glenaveigh I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe Where young lovers would meet when the flowers were in bloom Heard the men coming home from
: If I should fall from grace with God Where no doctor can relieve me If I'm buried 'neath the sod But the angels won't receive me Let me go, boys