American Old Time Song Lyrics: 31 Gilligans On A Tear Again

Theater, Music-Hall, Nostalgic, Irish & Historic Old Songs, Volume 31

GILLIGAN'S ON A TEAR AGAIN.
Copyright, 1890. by Chas. W. Held.
Words and Music by Chas, Graham.

Mike Gilligan's a man will known in our ward,
he has liv'd there for many a year;
he wad only a workman in Shaugnessy's yand
Till they made him an overseer;
As the boss of the road-gang, he's in a good way,
But he's somewhat a divil-may-care;
So last Wednesday night when he got his pay
he went off on a glorious tear:
As he came down the street, in his Sunday clothes.
With a brand-new hat and cane;
A cigar; in his month, in his coat a rose,
he could hear all the neighbors saying:

Spoken-What?

Chorus.
Gilligan's on a tear again, he'll stay till Saturday night;
Just give him all the room he wants, or else he'll raise a light.
'Tis once in ev'ry month he throws his money left and right.
But he'll go to work again on Monday morning.

On Thursday at Reilly's he treated the boys,
And the boy they all treated as well;
Friday morn at McKay's place he made such noise
That Mac told him no liquor he'd sell;
You have had quite enough for a while said McKay,
Take a seltzer and lemon with me;
But Gilligan swore for his drinks he could pay,
And no soft drinks at all it would be.
"So go home," said McKay, "like a decent man;
If you don't I'll throw yez out."
Then Mike threw off his coat and yell'd, "If you can!"
While the gang mov'd back with a shout:

Spoken-What did they shout?

Chorus.
Gilligan's on a tear again, he'll stay till Saturday night;
Just give him all the room he wants, he's spoiling for a light.
He's up against McKay, and Mac can knock him out of sight;
He'll be a sorry man on Monday morning.

Right over the bar came McKay with a howl.
And right down to the floor went his foe;
And Mac pounded and hammer'd his face and his jowl
Till his own hands and knuckles were sore;
What was left of poor Mike when McKay let him go
Was taken away in a hack;
Poor Gilligan's face, sure, you never would know,
And there was not a coat to his back.
'Twas on Saturday night he went home again
Just as quiet as any mouse,
And he heard once again all the neighbors saying,
As they took him into the house:

Spoken-What's that?
Chorus.
Gilligan's on a tear again, he stay'd till Saturday night;
he tried to run the town, but now he is an awful sight;
He got what he went out for, but he couldn't win the fight,
And he'll be a wiser man on Monday morning.