| Oh come all you true born Irishmen, wherever you may be
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| I hope you’ll pay attention and listen unto me
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| I’ll sing about a battle that took place the other day
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| Between a Russian sailor and gallant Morrissey
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| It was in Tierra Del Fuego in South America
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| The Russian challenged Morrissey these words to him did say
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| I hear you are a fighting man you wear the belt I see
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| Indeed I wish you would consent to have a fight with me
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| Up spoke Johnny Morrissey with heart both brave and true
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| I am a valiant Irishman that never was subdued
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| I can whack the Yankee, the Saxon, Bull or Bear
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| In honour of old Paddy’s land the laurels I’ll maintain
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| They shook hands and walked around the ring commencing then to fight
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| It filled each Irish heart with joy to behold the sight
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| The Russian he floored Morrissey up to the eleventh round
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| With Yankee, Saxon and Russian cheers the valley did resound
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| A minute and a half he lay before he could arise
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| The word it went around the field he’s dead rang out the cries
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| But Morrissey recovered and rising from the ground
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| From that up to the eighteenth the Russian he put down
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| The Irish offered ten to one that day upon the grass
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| No sooner said that taken and they covered all the cash
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| They parried away without delay up to the twentieth round
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| When Morrissey received a blow which brought him to the ground
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| Up to the thirty-second round 'twas fall and fall about
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| Which caused them Yankee tyrants to keep a sharp look out
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| The Russian called his seconds to pour a glass of wine
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| Begod sez Johnny Morrissey this battle will be mine
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| The thirty-seventh ended all when the Russian smelt a fart
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| When Morrissey with a dreadful blow struck the Russian on the heart
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| They sent for a physician to open up a vein
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| The doctor said 'Tis useless, he will never fight again'
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| Our hero conquered Thompson, the Yankee clipper too
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| The Benica boy and Shepherd he also did subdue
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| Let us fill a flowing glass and here’s a health galore
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| To noble Johnny Morrissey who came from Templemore |