American Old Time Song Lyrics: 26 The Obrannigan Fusileers
Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 26
THE O'BRANNIGAN FUSILEERS.
Copyright, 1889, by Spaullding & Kornder.
Words and Music by Joseph Flynn.
Allow me now, please, to introduce a warrior bold and true.
A man of fame and glorious name in O'Brannigan Guards of blue;
We were never engaged in a regular war, if we should we'd prove the best,
For we'd stop the pistol and cannon balls with the flannels upon our chest.
Our captain's name is Mike Malone, he's the man that don't like work,
He is very fond of fighting, and at drinking he's a Turk;
But when we're out on a promenade the air resounds with cheers.
For there's not a braver lot of men than the O'Brannigan Fusiliers.
Oh, ain't we sweet, so nice and neat.
The pets of all the lovely cooks and maids;
Our style bewitching captivates the people,
Rich and poor in every grade.
For fun and wine we're "right in line.
We take the prize from the famous Bowery Grenadiers;
An elegant, sweet fashion plate,
Jolly party, brave and hearty fusiliers, the O'Brannigan Blues.
Our battle cry: We'll booze or die! is known both far and near,
There's not a man in the whole command but can run like a mountain deer-
In the heat of war when the bullets are thick we are sure'to be always found,
And that's under the ammunition truck a-sleeping upon the ground.
Just fourteen balls have pierced this noble, manly breast of mine,
They were codfish balls, I ate them all one day at dinner time;
And our gatling guns are loaded with rum, and our canteens full of beer,
For divil a hand is a temp'rance man in the O'Brannigan Fusiliers.-Chorus.
Our marching is like the forty thieves, we crawl along like snails,
The captain tells us every day that we'll all land in the jail;
I have had my head cut off three times, I mean my head of hair,
And one day I got a fatal wound with the leg of an iron chair.
But I hear the bugle sounding, sure, it must be dinner time,
And my appetite is very strong, I'm never left behind;
And this maxim I will always keep, for to eat when grub is near.
For we only get one meal a week in the O'Brannigan Fusiliers.-Chorus.