If You're Irish Come Into the Parlor
In sweet Lim'rick Town, they say,
Lived a chap named Patrick John MoIIoy.
Once he sailed to U.S.A.
His luck in foreign parts he thought he'd try.
Now he's made his name, and is a wealthy man,
He put a bit away for a rainy day;
So if you gaze upon
The house of Patrick John,
You'll find a notice that goes on to say:
If you're Irish come into the parlour,
There's a welcome there for you;
If your name is Timothy or Pat,
So long as you come from Ireland,
There's a welcome on the mat,
If You come from the Mountains of Mourne,
Or Killarney's lakes so blue,
We'll sing you a song and we'll make a fuss,
Whoever you are you are one of us,
If you're Irish, this is the place for you!
Patrick loved the girl he wed,
But he could not stand his Ma-n-aw,
Once with joy he turned quite red,
When she got into trouble thro' her jaw.
Six police they had to take her to the Court,
She was informed a month she would have to do,
So Patrick quickly wrote
Up to the Judge a note
Explaining, "Sir, I'm much obliged to you!"