As I woke up this morning, at 7:45
So happy I was this morning just to find meself alive.
I harnessed up me horses, my business to resume,
and back to haulin’ cord was the thing we used to do.
’Cause we were haulin one cord; we should have been haulin’ four.
We stopped so long in Martintown, we couldn’t haul no more.
The tavern doors were open, the whiskey it was free,
and when me glass was empty, another was there for me.
The four prettiest maidens that ever sailed from France,
the four prettiest maidens just got up on the floor and danced.
Gerry O’Neil was fiddler ’cause his arm was strong.
He played the reels of Ireland for four hours long.
Well, I harnessed up ol’ Doplin, we rode away so still.
We scarcely took a breath until we reached ol’ Apple Hill.
The people there were lookin’ at us; exactly what did they say?
«The must have used a spyglass, or they’d never have found their way.»
So come on all you women who tattletale about.
You’d better watch your chat because we’re better off without.
We’ll go back to haulin’ cord, we’ll whistle and we’ll sing,
and surely we’ll never go on such a helluva spree again.