Irish Boy

Well, I danced in the arms of a black haired girl

In Scollay Square after the war

And I drank to get drunk, and sank and I stunk

Like a drunk on a subway floor

And I never did marry Cathy O'Shea

She met another and they went their way

To the wind you're a toy

Just a drunk Irish boy

Just a face in the crowd

I'll be back around

To show you all something someday

There are some things that must remain secret

You can find no good reason to tell

There's too many men telling their secrets these days

And I'd like to tell them to all go to hell

So I never had dreams and they never came true

As far as you know anyway

To the wind you're a toy

Just a drunk Irish boy

Just a face in the crowd

I'll be back around

To show you all something someday

Glory be, glory be, to the highest of trees

We used to climb, my brother and me

High on her limbs, two laughing hyenas

Over West Roxbury cemetery

To the wind you’re a toy, just a thin Irish boy

Coming back home from the war

Just a face in the crowd

Just a drunk and out loud

Just you try looking down

'Cause I'll be back around

To show you all something someday

To show you all something someday