St. Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
He built a church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher
His uncle was a Grady
His aunt was in O'Shaughnessy
His uncle was a Brady
The Wicklow hills are very high
So is the hill of Howth, sir
But there's a hill mush higher still
Much higher than them both, sir
On the top of this high hill
St. Patrick preached a sermon
Which drove the frogs into the bogs
And banished all the vermin
There's not a mile in Eireann's isle
Where dirty vermin muster
But there he put his dear forefoot
And murdered them in clusters
The frogs went hop and the toads went pop
Slapdash into the water
The snakes committed suicide
To save themselves from slaughter
Nine hundred thousand reptiles blue
He charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them at Killaloe
In soups and second courses
Where blind worms crawling on the grass
Disgusted all the nation
Right down to hell with a holy spell
It changed the situation
No wonder that them Irish lads
Should be so gay and frisky
Sure S.t Paddy taught them that
Aswell as making whiskey
No wonder that the saint himself
Should understand destillin'
For his mother kept a shebeen shop
In the town of Enniskillen
Oh was I but so fortunate
As to be back in Munster
I'll be bound that from that ground
Nevermore what you want, sir
There Saint Patrick planted turf
Cabbages and praties
Pigs galore, ma gra, ma store,
Altar boys and ladies