They Hung Up Michael Dugan.
Copyright, 1897, by Otto Bonnell.
Composed by J Sweeny.
An Irishman named Dugan owned a barroom here in town,
And every one that entered it he'd always try to down;
He kept the poorest whiskey and he charged the highest price
The moment you got in the place he'd want to shake the dice;
If you got in an argument, no matter when or how,
Before you got out of the place there'd surely be a row;
He'd give you all a hard-boiled egg, and that you'd have to eat;
I'd never pay a cent for drink, he'd put it on the slate;
And so I hung up Michael Dugan more than twenty times a day-
I hung up Michael Dugan and I played him for a jay;
I blew in all the money that the house took in to-day,
I've been hanging Michael Dugan up since morning.
Now Dugan set an awful lunch a bull-dog could not eat-
The pigs-feet they were rusty, they would pull out all your teeth.
I often thought I'd write a note down to the Board of Health,
For the roaches made a lodging house of the soup-bowl on the shelf;
One day a man was hungry and he ate some of the ham;
The ham was filled with strychnine, and right there he had the jams;
He made a twist and made a twirl and fell without a blink;
Now Dugan's gone to sue the corpse, to pay for his last drink.
For he had hung up Michael Dugan by a curious device;
He hung up Michael Dugan; he said, put it on ice;
He shook him craps for fifty bills and wrung in loaded dice;
He'd been hanging Michael Dugan up since morning.
Sure invitations they were sent by Dugan to his friends
To call Saint Patrick's morning and a shamrock he'd extend.
He had them strewn along the bar in glasses trimmed with green,
With a little lunch and salt and pepper sandwiched in between;
Just then two Dutchmen entered, they said gleb uns zwei bier;
They ate up all the shamrocks, saying, the salad's fine in here.
They ate their lunch, they ate it quick, their time was very short,
The Irish was insulted and poor Dugan went to court.
And so they hung up Michael Dugan just eighteen feet in the air.
And if the Dutchmen had their say he'd still be hanging there,
But now that Michael's silent he has no thought or care
For Dutch or Irish on St. Patrick's morning.