The Juice Of The Barley

In the sweet county Limerick one cold winter’s night
All the turf fires were burning when I first saw the light
And a drunken old midwife went tipsy with joy
As she danced round the floor with her slip of a boy

Singing banya na mo if an ganna
And the juice of the barley for me

Well when I was a gossoon of eight years or so
With me turf and me primer to school I did go
To a dusty old school house without any door
Where lay the school master blind drunk on the floor

Singing banya na mo if an ganna
And the juice of the barley for me

At the learning I wasn’t such a genius I’m thinking
But I soon beat the master entirely at drinking
Not a wake or a wedding for five miles around
But meself in the corner was sure to be found

Singing Bainne na mBó dos na nGamhna
And the juice of the barley for me

One Sunday the priest thread me out from the altar
Saying “You’ll end up your days with your neck in a halter
And you’ll dance a fine jig between heaven and hell”
And his words they did frighten me the truth for to tell

Singing Bainne na mBó dos na nGamhna
And the juice of the barley for me

So the very next morning as the dawn it did break
I went down to the vestry, the pledge for to take
And there in that room sat the priests in a bunch
Round a big roaring fire drinking tumblers of punch

Singing Bainne na mBó dos na nGamhna
And the juice of the barley for me

Well from that day to this I have wandered alone
I’m a jack of all trades and a master of none
With the sky for me roof and the earth for me floor
And I’ll dance out me days drinking whiskey galore

Singing Bainne na mBó dos na nGamhna
And the juice of the barley for me