American Old Time Song Lyrics: 07 The Wind Blew Through His Whiskers

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 7

The Wind Blew Through His Whiskers
Sung by Pat Rooney.

Kind friends, if you will listen,
I will tell you, one And all,
About a dacent Irishman,
Whose name was Mike McCaull;
He had a great big brother Pat,
And likewise two big sisters,
But the day he landed in New York
The wind blew through his whisker*.

He got in with the politicians.
And he struck them for a job,
So they put his name on the pay-roll,
The city for to rob;
Since he went to work in the pipe-yard,
His feet are full of blisters,
And the day they sent him on the dock
The wind blew through his whiskers.

It was on one sunuy afternoon
He went to Coney Isle,
Along with a big pot wrestler,
The hours to beguile;
They sat down in a shady spot,
And chatted there in whispers,
And as they walked along the beach
The wind blew through his whiskers.

He is a member of the T. A. B.,
And on St. Patrick's day
He marched down through the Bowery,
Decked out in shamrocks gay;
The girls, sure they all laughed at him,
And said, oh, my! what twisters.
And as they walked behind the band
The wind blew through his whiskers.

It was on last Sunday morning.
When he came home from mass,
Says he, I'll go to Central Park
The time away to pass;
He put on his dandy high plug-hat,
And brought along his sisters,
But when they reached the monkey's cage
The wind blew through his whiskers.

The children they all laugh at him.
And set him wild with rage.
So he's going to shave his whiskers off
And put then? in a cage;
And then he can walk out, my boys.
Along with his two big sisters,
No more the gang will shout at him,
The wind blew through his whiskers.