Irish Ballad
words and music by Tom Lehrer
About a maid I'll sing this song sing rickety tickety tin
who did not have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong.
She did everyone of them in.
Them in. She did every one of them in
One morning in a fit of pique sing rickety tickety tin
she drowned her father in the creek
The water tasted bad for a week
And we had to make do with gin
With gin. We had to make do with gin
Her mother she could never stand sing rickety tickety tin
stand and so a cyanide soup she planned
The mother died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin
A grin. Her face in a hideous grin
She set her sisters hair on fire sing rickety tickety tin
and as the smoke and flame grew higher
Danced around the funeral pyre
Playing a violin O-lin. Playing a violin
She tied her brother down with stones sing rickety tickety tin
and sent him off to Davy Jones
All they ever found were the bones
And occassional pieces of skin
Of skin. Occassional pieces of skin
One day she had nothing to do sing rickety tickety tin
she cut her baby brother in two
Served him up in an Irish stew
And invited the neighbors in -Bors in.
Invited the neighbors in.
When at last the police came by sing rickety tickety tin
these terrible deeds she did not deny
To do so she would have to lie
And lying she knew was a sin
A sin. Lying she knew was a sin
ADDITIONAL VERSE
[Just one last thing before I go sing rickety tickery tin
there is something I think you ought to know
They had no proof so they let her go
And they say she was tall and thin
And thin. They say she was tall and thin.]
My tragic tale I won't prolong sing rickety tickety tin
and if you did not enjoy this song
You've yourself to blame for letting me go on
You should never have let me begin
Begin. You should never have let me begin!
