Lily Marney

There's a terrible crowd down at Murphy's,
Ay, and whisper, I'll tell you the cause;
It's all about somebody's daughter,
And bedad, there's going to be wars.
Young Murphy had promised to wed her,
But his promise he hasn't fulfilled,
And they're there with pick-axes, shovels and spades,
And Murphy is going to be killed.
Like mad, they're all behavin',
And this is the way they're ravin'.

Chorus: John James Murphy, what are you going to do.
John James Murphy, think of poor Molly McCue.
Her father and her mother and her great big brother, too,
Say, if you don't marry the girl they'll knock the stuffin' out of you!

Now this Murphy's a flat-footed p'liceman,
And this girl used to be on his bate,
Sure you all know what divals the coppers,
For rabbit pie, beer and cold mate.
I suppose she gave him many a supper,
And she'd think that he'd make a fine hub,
And while she thought of courtin' and Kissin' and love,
He was thinking of nothing but grub.
But now he must go through it,
They're shouting out, 'Why did you do it?'


Sure he's there wid the door barricaded,
And the neighbours are all in the street,
There are millions and thousands and hundreds,
And he dare not show even his feet.
At the window he's shaking his truncheon,
But I wouldn't mind makin' a bet,
If he don't take poor Molly to church right away,
There's a tunic and helmet to let.
There's the undertaker, Durkin,
Imagines that he'll soon be workin'.


Written and composed by Felix McGlennon - 1898
Performed by Lily Marney
From Music Hall Lyrics Collection
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