Train to Limerick
Twas a foggy morn when I climbed on board
fresh from a game and looking like a Lord
took a tight seat and a quick look around
we was a moving slow and making heavy sounds
a stook was up and heading for the jacks
across the green fields, men were breaking their backs
I settled in good as we crossed Henry’s bog
the stook came back, crazy as a box of frogs
prancing and mouthing acting like a ponce
he seemed to be trying for a stinking response
I decided to ignore him and fell into a dream
of the night before, men were full of steam
Clancy made the bets and I fell in too deep
the room was crowded, just off a side street
as midnight came, we marched on past three
the pounds were piling high, the gamblers looked at me
holding all the aces someone pulled out a knife
grabbing the table’s money before they took my life
I think I got away, in a faded old dream
or did they follow planning a deadly Irish scheme?
my eyes cracked open, the conductor was standing there
my window was open blowing fresh Irish air
said there’s a man on board and he’s a wanting me
arriving in a station surrounded by some trees
before he knew it, I was running down the bricks
and that’s the last I saw of that train to Limerick