DICEY REILLY



Oh poor old Dicey Reilly, she has taken to the sup

And poor old Dicey Reilly, she will never give it up

It's off each morning to the pop that she goes in

for another little drop

But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly



She will walk along Fitzgibbon Street with an independent air

And then its down by Summerhill, and as the people stare

She'll say, "It's nearly half passed one

Time I went in for another little one

But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly

Now at two, pubs close and out she goes as happy as a lark

She'll find a bench to sleep it off at St. Patrick's Park

She'll wake at five feeling in the pink

And say, "Tis time for another drink

But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly



Now she'll travel far to a dockside bar to have another round

And after one or two or three she doesn't feel quite so sound

After four she's a bit unstable

After five underneath the table

But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly



Oh they carry her home at twelve o'clock as they do every night

Bring her inside, put her on the bed and then turn out the light

Next morning she'll get out of bed

And look for a cure for her head

But the heart of the rowl is Dicey Reilly

@Irish @drink

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