| I am a little beggarman and beggin I have been
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| For three score years in this little isle of green
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| I’m known along the Liffey from the basin to the zoo
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| And I’m known by the name of the Bold Johnnie Dhu
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| My brother called «The Jolly Beggar» tripped over the plain
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| He comes unto the farmer’s doors a lodging for a gain
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| Sometimes the farmers' daughter views him cheek and chin
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| And calls him a handsome man and takes him in
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| Of all trades a going sure the begging is the best
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| For when a man is tired he can sit down and rest
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| He begs for his dinner, he has nothing else to do
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| But to slip around the corner with his old rigadoo
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| I slept last night in a barn in Currabawn
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| T' was a shocking wet night but I slept until the dawn
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| Holes in a roof and the rain coming through
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| And the rats and the cats were all playing peek-a-boo
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| Oh when I was awaken by the woman of the house
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| With her white spotted apron and her fine gingham blouse
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| She began to frighten, all I said was: «Boo»
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| Don’t be afraid, cause it’s only Johnny Dhu
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| I met a little flaxen-haired girl on day
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| «Good morning, little flaxen-haired girl» I did say
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| «Good morning, little beggarman, and how do you do
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| With your rags and your tags and your old rigadoo?»
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| «I'll buy pair of leggins and a collar and a tie
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| And a nice young lady I’ll go courting by and by
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| I’ll buy a pair of goggles and I’ll colour them blue
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| And an old-fashioned lady I will make her too
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| So all along the highroad with my bag upon my back
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| And over the fields with my heavy bulging sack
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| Holes in my shoes and the toes peeping through
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| Singing «Skin-ma-link-a-dooddle» with my old rigadoo
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| Oh I must be gone to bed now for it’s getting late at night
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| The fire’s all raked and there isn’t any light
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| For now you’ve heard the story of my old rigadoo
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| So good night and God be with you from old Johnny Dhu |