| In the merry month of June
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| From me home I started,
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| Left the girls of Tuam so sad
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| And broken hearted,
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| Saluted father dear,
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| Kissed me darling mother,
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| Drank a Pint of beer,
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| Me grief and tears to smother,
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| Then off to reap the Corn,
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| Leave where I was born,
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| Cut a Stout Black thorn
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| To banish ghosts and goblins;
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| Bought a pair of brogues
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| Rattling o’er the bogs
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| And frightening all the dogs
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| On the rocky road to Dublin.
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| One, Two, Three four, Five,
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| Hunt the Hare
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| And turn her down the rocky road
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| And all the way to Dublin,
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| Whack follow de rah!
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| In Mullingar that night
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| I rested limbs so weary,
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| Started by daylight
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| Next morning blithe and early,
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| Took a drop of pure
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| To keep me heart from sinking;
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| That’s a Paddy’s cure
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| Whenever he’s on drinking.
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| See the lassies smile,
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| Laughing all the while
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| At me curious style,
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| It would set your heart a bubbling'
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| Asked me was I hired, wages
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| I required, I was almost tired
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| Of the rocky road to Dublin.
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| One, Two, Three four, Five… |