Oh come all you true born Irishmen, wherever you may be
I hope you'll pay attention and listen unto me
I'll sing about a battle that took place the other day
Between a Russian sailor and gallant Morrissey
It was in Tierra Del Fuego in South America
The Russian challenged Morrissey these words to him did say
I hear you are a fighting man you wear the belt I see
Indeed I wish you would consent to have a fight with me
Up spoke Johnny Morrissey with heart both brave and true
I am a valiant Irishman that never was subdued
I can whack the Yankee, the Saxon, Bull or Bear
In honour of old Paddy's land the laurels I'll maintain
They shook hands and walked around the ring commencing then to fight
It filled each Irish heart with joy to behold the sight
The Russian he floored Morrissey up to the eleventh round
With Yankee, Saxon and Russian cheers the valley did resound
A minute and a half he lay before he could arise
The word it went around the field he's dead rang out the cries
But Morrissey recovered and rising from the ground
From that up to the eighteenth the Russian he put down
The Irish offered ten to one that day upon the grass
No sooner said that taken and they covered all the cash
They parried away without delay up to the twentieth round
When Morrissey received a blow which brought him to the ground
I hope you'll pay attention and listen unto me
I'll sing about a battle that took place the other day
Between a Russian sailor and gallant Morrissey
It was in Tierra Del Fuego in South America
The Russian challenged Morrissey these words to him did say
I hear you are a fighting man you wear the belt I see
Indeed I wish you would consent to have a fight with me
Up spoke Johnny Morrissey with heart both brave and true
I am a valiant Irishman that never was subdued
I can whack the Yankee, the Saxon, Bull or Bear
In honour of old Paddy's land the laurels I'll maintain
They shook hands and walked around the ring commencing then to fight
It filled each Irish heart with joy to behold the sight
The Russian he floored Morrissey up to the eleventh round
With Yankee, Saxon and Russian cheers the valley did resound
A minute and a half he lay before he could arise
The word it went around the field he's dead rang out the cries
But Morrissey recovered and rising from the ground
From that up to the eighteenth the Russian he put down
The Irish offered ten to one that day upon the grass
No sooner said that taken and they covered all the cash
They parried away without delay up to the twentieth round
When Morrissey received a blow which brought him to the ground
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