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| Dm | |
| In | eighteen hundred and forty-one, |
| F | |
| I | put my corduroy breeches on, |
| Dm | |
| I | put my corduroy breeches on |
| C | Dm | |
| To work up | on the | railway. |
Chorus:
F
Fil-li-me-oo-ri-i-ri-aye
| Dm |
| Fil-li-me-oo-ri-i-ri-aye. |
| F |
| Fil-li-me-oo-ri-i-ri-aye. |
| Dm | ||
| C | Dm | |
| To work up | on the | railway. |
In eighteen hundred and forty-two,
I left the old world for the new,
Bad cess to the luck that brought me through
To work upon the railway.
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
'Twas then I met sweet Biddy McGee
An elegant wife she's been to me
While working on the railway.
In eighteen hundred and forty-five,
I thought myself more dead than alive,
I thought myself more dead than alive
While working on the railway.
It's "Pat do this" and "Pat do that,"
Without a stocking or cravat,
Nothing but an old straw hat
While Pat worked on the railway.
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven,
Sweet Biddy McGee she went to heaven,
If she left one kid, she left eleven,
To work upon the railway.
In eighteen hundred and forty-eight,
I learned to drink me whiskey straight,
It's an elegant drink that can't be beat
For working on the railway.
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