The Kerry Recruit The Corries

At the age of nineteen, I was digging the land
With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand
Well says I to meself, 'What a pity to see
Such a fine Kerry couldn't turf in Tralee.'

With your Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay
Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay

So I buttered me brogues and shook hands with me spade
Dashed off to the fair like a gallant young blade
The sergeant come up says 'Will you enlist?'
'Sure, sergeant,' says I, 'Stick the bob in me fist'

Then up comes the captain, and a man of great fame
Straightways he asks me my country and name;
Well, I told you before and tell him again
That me father and mother were two Kerrymen

Now the first thing they gave me, they called it a gun
And under the trigger I nesstled me thumb
The gun it spite fire, and vomited smoke
It gave a great leap and me shoulder near broke

Now the next place they took me was down to the sea
On board a great warship, bound for the Crimee
Three sticks in the middle, all hung with great sheet
Sure she walked on the water without any feet