Marshal Soul - The Rocky Road to Dublin

Drink a pint and give my grief and taste to your mother.
They'll offer in the corn, eat where I was born,
Cut a stout black torn to banish ghosts and goblins.
A brand new pair of grows ridin' over the bargs and frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three, three, four, five.
Pump the horn and turn it down the rocky road,
And all the way to Dublin, where I'll fall all the day.
In Mullum Guide at night, I wristed lutes away,
Started by daylight, lute's morning brightened air.