| I knew Danny Farrell when his football was a can.
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| In his hand me down’s and wellers and sandwiches of grand,
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| But now this pave ment pesent, is a full grown bitter man,
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| With all his trials and troubles, of hes travelling people’s clan
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| He’s a looser a boozer, me and you user,
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| A rater a traitor, peoples police hater,
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| So lonely and only, what you call a gurrier,
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| Still now, Danny Farrell he’s a man.
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| I knew Danny Farrell when he joined the national school,
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| He was lousy at the gaelic, called him amadan and fool
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| He was briliant at the toss school
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| Or traiding objects in the pown
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| By the time he was an adult all his charming ways were gone.
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| He’s a looser a boozer, me and you user,
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| A rater a traitor, peoples police hater,
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| So lonely and only, what you call a gurrier,
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| Still now, Danny Farrell he’s a man.
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| I knew Dannd Farrell when he queued up for the dole,
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| And he tried to hide his loss of pride,
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| That eats away the soul,
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| Mending pots and kettles, is a trade lost in the past.
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| Theres no hand out’s here for tinkeres was the answer when he asked.
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| He’s a looser a boozer, me and you user,
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| A rater a traitor, peoples police hater,
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| So lonely and only, what you call a gurrier,
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| Still now, Danny Farrell he’s a man.
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| I still know Danny Farrell, saw him just there yesterday,
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| Drinking methylated spirits, with some winos on the quay,
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| Now he’s fourty going on eighty, with his eyes of hope bereft,
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| And he told me this for certain, theres not many of us left,
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| He’s a looser a boozer, me and you user,
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| A rater a traitor, peoples police hater,
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| So lonely and only, what you call a gurrier,
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| Still now, Danny Farrell he’s a man. |