| lyric | Come all you true born Irishmen a story I will tell
Concerning DEnis McCarthy in Liverpool did dwell:
’Twas down the Northern docks one day he happend for to stray,
On a Wastern ocean steamboat he stowed himself away.
After four long aays and four long nights in the chain locker he was found.
The ship was on the Atlantic waves and far from any ground.
Then up they‘hrought McCarthy, and he hungry, stiff and sore -
But ready to fight any son of a gun on The City of Baltimore.
The mate he came up on the deck and to the crew did say:
‘Where is that Irish spalpcen who stowed himself away?’
‘I’m here,’ says bold McCarthy, ‘and as I’ve said before
I'll fight any man that’s fore or aft The City of Baltimore.’
The mate, he being a cowardly man, before him wouldn’t stand;
McCarthy being a smart young man, ’twas at the mate he ran.
And with one flake of his brawny fist, this bucko he did lower,
And he stretched him senseless on the deck of The City of Baltimore.
The second mate and bosun came to the mate’s relief;
McCarthy with his capstan bar, he soon made them retreat.
His Irish blood began to boil, and he like a lion did roar,
Saying, Skin and hair will fly this day on The Citygof Baltimore. ’
Then to Newfoundland out they go all on the ocean green
‘Now,’ says McCarthy, ‘there’s a land I never before have seen
‘Goodbye,’ says he, ‘my shipmates all, for I am going ashore,
To seek my fame but remember me on The City of Baltimore.~’
And so he packed his scanty grip and down the plank did go,
They saw him plant his sturdy legs and looking to and fro;
Then he turned and waved his strong right hand, a stranger on the shore
And that’s the last they heard of him on The City of Baltimore. |