Sons of Murphy

Ah, the day is done and it's been too long

It's down to the pub where you belong

We know you're weary, tired and cold

We are the sons of Murphy

A net and people atop the dough

Two fine gentlemen don't you know?

We all take turns at the rake and bow

We are the sons of Murphy

Shaking

Bottles to the floor

Are you drinking?

Your worries at the door

And the sons will shout

Drinks will pour (Hey!)

This is what you're waiting for

Our Leinster fiddler recall and sings

Of old triangles and fiery rings

You howl along for you know a thing

With all the sons of Murphy

Fifteen pints of Murphy's stout

Shots of Tullamore round about

You laugh and sing and dance and shout

With all the sons of Murphy

Shaking

Bottles to the floor

Are you drinking?

Your worries at the door

And the sons will shout

Drinks will pour (Hey!)

This is what you're waiting for, ho!

That's right!

Ah Jimmy's me name and if I'm right

Your Antigone's gone from sight

So now it's time to say goodnight

To all the sons of Murphy

So when the day's been tired and long

It's down to the pub where we belong

And that's the end of this poxy song

We are the sons of Murphy

Shaking

Bottles to the floor

Are you drinking?

Your worries at the door

And we know your fiends

They drink no more (Hey!)

And the sons will shout

And drinks will pour (Hey!)

The last pint's stream

They adds to more

This is what you're waiting for, oh!