| Oh me name is McNamara
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| I’m the leader of the band
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| Although we’re small in numbers we’re the best band in the land
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| We play for wakes and weddings
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| And at every fancy ball
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| And when we play the funerals
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| We play the March from Saul
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| Oh the drums go bang
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| The cymbals clang
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| The horns they blaze away
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| McCarthy plays the old basson
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| While I the pipes do play
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| And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute
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| And the music is something grand
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| A credit to old Ireland is McNamara’s band
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| Tra la la laaa, la la la laa laaaaa, laaaa la la la laaaaa
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| Tra la la laaa, la la la laa laaaaaaa
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| A credit to old Ireland is McNamara’s band
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| Right now we are rehearsing
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| For a very swell affair
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| The annual celebration
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| All the gentry will be there
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| When General Grant to Ireland came
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| He took me by the hand
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| Saws he, I never heard the likes of McNamara’s band
|
| Oh the drums go bang
|
| The cymbals clang
|
| The horns they blaze away
|
| McCarthy plays the old basson
|
| While I the pipes do play
|
| And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute
|
| And the music is something grand |
| A credit to old Ireland is McNamara’s band
|
| Tra la la laaa, la la la laa laaaaa, laaaa la la la laaaaa
|
| Tra la la laaa, la la la laa laaaaaaa
|
| A credit to old Ireland is McNamara’s band |