Lyrics The Dublin Jack of All Trades - The Dubliners

The Dublin Jack of All Trades

OhI am a roving sporting blade, theycall me Jack of allTrades
I always place my chief delight incourting pretty fair maids.
So when in Dublin I arrived totry for a situation
Ialwaysheard themsay itwas thepride ofall theNations.
I’m a roving jack of many-a-trades
Of everytrade of alltrades
And if you wish to know my name
Theycall me Jack of alltrades.
On George’s Quay I first began and there became a porter
Me and my master soon fell out which cut my acquaintance shorter
In Sackville Street, a pastry cook;
In James' Street, a baker
In Cook Street I did coffins make;
In Eustace Street, a preacher.
In Baggot street I drove a cab and there was well requited
In Francis Street had lodging beds, to entertain all strangers
For Dublin is of high reknown, or I am much mistaken
In Kevin Street, I do declare, sold butter, eggs and bacon.
In Golden Lane I sold old shoes: In Meath Street was a grinder
In Barrack Street I lost my wife.
I’m glad I ne’er could find her.
In Mary’s Lane, I’ve dyed old clothes, of which I’ve often boasted
In that noted place Exchequer Street, sold mutton ready roasted.
In Temple Bar, I dressed old hats;
In Thomas Street, a sawyer
In Pill Lane, I sold the plate, in Green Street, an honest lawyer
In Plunkett Street I sold cast clothes;
in Bride’s Alley, a broker
In Charles Street I had a shop, sold shovel, tongs and poker.
In College Green a banker was, and in Smithfield, a drover
In Britain Street, a waiter and in George’s Street, a glover
On Ormond Quay I sold old books;
in King Street, a nailer
In Townsend Street, a carpenter;
and in Ringsend, a sailor.
In Cole’s Lane, a jobbing butcher;
in Dane Street, a tailor
In Moore Street a chandler and on the Coombe, a weaver.
In Church Street, I sold old ropes- on Redmond’s Hill a draper
In Mary Street, sold 'bacco pipes- in Bishop street a quaker.
In Peter Street, I was a quack: In Greek street, a grainer
On the Harbour, I did carry sacks;
In Werburgh Street, a glazier.
In Mud Island, was a dairy boy, where I became a scooper
In Capel Street, a barber’s clerk;
In Abbey Street, a cooper.
In Liffey street had furniture with fleas and bugs I sold it
And at the Bank a big placard I often stood to hold it
In New Street I sold hay and straw, and in Spitalfields made bacon
In Fishamble Street was at the grand old trade of basketmaking.
In Summerhill a coachmaker;
in Denzille Street a gilder
In Cork Street was a tanner, in Brunswick Street, a builder,
In High Street, I sold hosiery;
In Patrick Street sold all blades
So if you wish to know my name, they call me Jack of all Trades.