| I’m workin' here in Glasgow, I’ve got a dacent job
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| Carrying bricks and mortar and me pay is fifteen bob
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| I rise up in the mornin', I get up with the lark
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| And as I’m walkin' down the street, you can hear the girls remark
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| «Hello Patsy Fagan», you can hear the girls all cry
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| Hello Patsy Fagan, you’re the apple of my eye
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| You’re a dacent boy from Ireland, there’s no one can deny
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| You’re a rarem tarem divil may carem, dacent Irish boy
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| Now if there’s one among you who would like to marry me
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| I’ll take her to a little home across the Irish Sea
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| I’ll dress her up in satin and I’ll please her all I can
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| And let her people see that I’m a dacent Irishman
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| «Hello Patsy Fagan», you can hear the girls all cry
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| Hello Patsy Fagan, you’re the apple of my eye
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| You’re a dacent boy from Ireland, there’s no one can deny
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| You’re a rarem tarem divil may carem, dacent Irish boy
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| The day that I left Ireland, 'twas many years ago
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| I left me home in Antrim where the pigs and praties grow
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| But since I left auld Ireland, it’s always been my plan
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| To let you people see that I’m a dacent Irishman
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| «Hello Patsy Fagan», you can hear the girls all cry
|
| Hello Patsy Fagan, you’re the apple of my eye
|
| You’re a dacent boy from Ireland, there’s no one can deny
|
| You’re a rarem tarem divil may carem, dacent Irish boy
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| You’re a rarem tarem divil may carem, dacent Irish boy |