Found out at the docks today, my job has gone away
The Foreman is sorry, and I say I am too
Can't tell the wife so I wander the streets close by
Drawn to the tavern to decide what to do
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The bottle brings clarity, just what they've done to me
Because I am headstrong and speak my own mind
I fight for the union and stand up for the working man
They fought back with a vengeance, I must answer in kind
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The whiskey revives me, feeling good to the core
The bastards won't break me, I won't take anymore
I start conversation with a gal at the bar
I tell her my story, and maybe take it too far
The jar gives me muscle, and her boyfriend too
The bloke learned a lesson, what my rough hands can do
The fight was a quick one, as I showed him the floor
The bartender applauded, as I strode to the door
The blood on my knuckles, made clear my next fight
They say violence solves nothing, but sometimes it might
Went back to the docks today, my Foreman has gone away
And I'm not sorry for my Irish Reply
The revenge of an Irish man, taking my final stand
Now I shall hang, and now you know why
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
Katie's Randy Cat - Irish Reply (The Last Words of Big Adam Maguire) Lyrics
Katie's Randy Cat - Irish Reply (The Last Words of Big Adam Maguire) Lyrics
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English
Found out at the docks today, my job has gone away
The Foreman is sorry, and I say I am too
Can't tell the wife so I wander the streets close by
Drawn to the tavern to decide what to do
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The bottle brings clarity, just what they've done to me
Because I am headstrong and speak my own mind
I fight for the union and stand up for the working man
They fought back with a vengeance, I must answer in kind
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The whiskey revives me, feeling good to the core
The bastards won't break me, I won't take anymore
I start conversation with a gal at the bar
I tell her my story, and maybe take it too far
The jar gives me muscle, and her boyfriend too
The bloke learned a lesson, what my rough hands can do
The fight was a quick one, as I showed him the floor
The bartender applauded, as I strode to the door
The blood on my knuckles, made clear my next fight
They say violence solves nothing, but sometimes it might
Went back to the docks today, my Foreman has gone away
And I'm not sorry for my Irish Reply
The revenge of an Irish man, taking my final stand
Now I shall hang, and now you know why
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The Foreman is sorry, and I say I am too
Can't tell the wife so I wander the streets close by
Drawn to the tavern to decide what to do
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The bottle brings clarity, just what they've done to me
Because I am headstrong and speak my own mind
I fight for the union and stand up for the working man
They fought back with a vengeance, I must answer in kind
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
The whiskey revives me, feeling good to the core
The bastards won't break me, I won't take anymore
I start conversation with a gal at the bar
I tell her my story, and maybe take it too far
The jar gives me muscle, and her boyfriend too
The bloke learned a lesson, what my rough hands can do
The fight was a quick one, as I showed him the floor
The bartender applauded, as I strode to the door
The blood on my knuckles, made clear my next fight
They say violence solves nothing, but sometimes it might
Went back to the docks today, my Foreman has gone away
And I'm not sorry for my Irish Reply
The revenge of an Irish man, taking my final stand
Now I shall hang, and now you know why
And to hell with politicians who steal from the poor
And to hell with the bosses who always want more
Here's a toast to the workers and our daily bread
And take fight to the bastards who are better off dead
Writer: Steve Steel
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid