Текстове на песни: The Dubliners. The Rocky Road To Dublin.

While in the merry month of May from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins,
Bought a pair of brogues rattling over the bogs
And frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin
On, two, three, four, five,

Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, whack follal le dah

In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early,
Took a drop of pure to keep me heart from sinking;
That's a Paddy's cure whenever he's up for drinking.
To hear the lassies smiling, laughing all the while
At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, and wages I required,
'Till I was almost tired on the rocky road to Dublin
One, two, three, four, five.

Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, whack follal le dah

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity
To be soon deprived the view of that fine city.
Then I took a stroll, all the among the quality,
Me bundle it was stolen, all in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looekd behind,
No bundle could I find,
Upon me stick a wobblin'
Inquiring after the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue,
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin,
One, two, three, four, five.

Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, whack follal le dah

From there I got away, me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing,
the Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy,
Down in among the pigs, did some hearty rigs,
And played some heart jigs, the water round me bubbling;
When off holy head I wished myself was dead,
Or better far instead on the rocky road to Dublin,
One, two, three, four, five

Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, whack follal le dah

The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it,
Blood began to boil.
Temper I was losing, poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul" says I, Shillelagh I let fly,
Galway boys were by and saw I was a hobble in,
With a loud "hurray!" they joined in the affray,
Quickly clear the way for the rocky road to Dublin,
One, two three four five.

Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
all the way to Dublin, whack follal le dah