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"Rocky Road to Dublin" is a 19th-century Irish song written by Irish poet D. K. Gavan about a man's experiences as he travels to Liverpool, England from his home in Tuam, Ireland. Originally popularized by Harry Clifton, it has since been performed extensively and become a standard of Irish folk music.

All performances/instruments - Myself (tfw no band ;_;)

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In the merry month of June, from my home, departed;
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted,
Saluted Father dear, kissed me darlin' Mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother

Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born;
Cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghost and goblin,
Brand new pair of brogues I rattled o'er the bogs
And frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin,
One, two, three, four five,

Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.


In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and early,
Took a drop of the pure, to keep me 'eart from sinking,
That's the Paddy's cure, whene'er he's on for drinking,

To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while,
At my curious style, would set your heart a-bubbling,
Asked if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four five,

Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.


In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
Then I took a stroll out among the quality,
My bundle, stolen, in a nice locality;

Something crossed my mind, then I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a-wobblin',
Enquiring for the rogue, said my Connaught brogue
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, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.


From there I got away, me spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy

Down among the pigs, played some funny rigs
Danced some hearty jigs, all the water bubblin';
Off to Holyhead; wished meself was dead,
Or better off instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four five,

Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.


The boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it;
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin'
Poor old Erin's Isle they were all abusin'

"Hurrah my soul!" says I, shillelagh I let fly,
Some Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobblin'
Then with a loud Hurray, they joined in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way, on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, four five,

Hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky road, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.

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