Mrs. McGrath

“Mrs. McGrath,” the sergeant said,
“Would you like to make a soldier
Out of your son, Ted?
With a scarlet cloak and a fine cocked hat,
Mrs. McGrath wouldn’t you like that?”

Mrs. McGrath lived on the seashore
For the space of seven long years or more
‘Till she saw big ship sailing in the bay
“Hallelu, babbelu, I think it’s he!”

“Oh, Captain dear, where have you been.
Have you been out sailin’ on the Mediteren’.
Have you any tidings of my son Ted.
Is the poor boy livin’ or is he dead?”

Now up comes Ted without any legs
And in their place there were two wooden pegs
She kissed him a dozen times or two
Saying “Holy moly could it be you?”

“Now was you drunk or was you blind
When you left your two fine legs behind?
Or was it out walking upon the sea
That tore your legs from the knees away?”

“No I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t blind
When I left my two fine legs behind.
For a cannon ball on the fifth of May
Took my two fine legs from the knees away.”

“Now Teddy me boy,” the old widow cried
“Your two fine legs was your mama’s pride
Them stumps of a tree won’t do at all
Why didn’t you run from the big cannon ball?”

“Now against all war, I do profrain
Between Don Juan and the King of Spain
And, by herrons, I’ll make ’em rue the time
When they swept the legs from a child of mine.”