Sullivan John

O’Sullivan John to the road you’re gone
Far away from your native land
You’ve gon with the tinker’s daughter
Far along the road to roam
O’Sullivan John you won’t stick it long
Till your belly will soon be slack
As you roam the road with a mighty loan
And a tool box on your back
I met Katie Coffee with her neat baby
Behind on her back strapped on
She’d an old ash plant in her hand
To drive the donkey along
Enquiring at every farmers house, as
Along the road she passed
And it’s where would you get an
Old pot to mend, and where would she get an ass
There’s a hairy ass fair in the County Clare
In a place they call Spancil Hill
Where my brother James got a wrap of a haimes
And poor Paddy they tried to kill
They loaded him up in an old ass and cart
While Kate and big Mary looked on
Ah, bad luck to the day that I went away
To join with the tinkers band