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 | A thousand more verses |  |
But my frind had one habit that made you forget
Oftentimes, what a charmin' young feller you'd met.
He would wake half the night, would this sing'lar lad,
And would schrape on a rusty ould fiddle he had,
And if time and if tune at a million each went,
He would niver be able to lay up a cent;
And I ask, “What's it for?” and he says, swate as June,
“I'm jist learnin' to play one perticular tune:
They say ganius is work, and of work I'm the doer:
And you one day will hear me play ‘Rory O'More.’”
80
He would wake half the night, would this sing'lar lad,
And would schrape on a rusty ould fiddle he had,
And if time and if tune at a million each went,
He would niver be able to lay up a cent;
And I ask, “What's it for?” and he says, swate as June,
“I'm jist learnin' to play one perticular tune:
They say ganius is work, and of work I'm the doer:
And you one day will hear me play ‘Rory O'More.’”
| A thousand more verses | |