Matty

Matty went out on a frozen night
Making for the pub, shoulders hunched up tight
His head down on the railroad track
His old cow Delia sad, lowin' him back

He met with a dark and a troubled man
As he passed him by, called back at him
"Matty can't you see what's become of me
In this country of the blind?"

The house I've left is dead to me
To me rhyming and me poetry
All I've got is the beat of the stagger
As I'm heading down the Curragh Line

Matty passed on as quick as he could
Couldn't stand such a crooked man sober
All he wanted was the lights of the bar
In the Nightingale and the Wild Rover

Oh, when he came in
They were sayin', "Look he's back
Oh, did Delia drive you out
With your spoutin' and your swearin'?
We don't want to hear about the Bunker Hayden
Maybe you'll sing us the Girls of Kinkane"

The fear an tí eyed him steadily
He handed him a pint of porter
Sayin', "You musta seen the bishop's ghost tonight
To put the dry look back in your eye"

Ah, but Matty would not be taken in
By their jibin' and their regalin'
He found himself a fresh blown crew
And fell in with their sportin' and their bailin'

As he was going home, in the very same spot
He met with his dark familiar
He seen him comin' back down the line
And he was bright and strange and fine

As he passed him by Matty threw out his arms
Tried to grab hold of his likeness
In the morning all we found was his frozen corpse
At the butt of the Curragh Line

At the wake they were lashin' out
The drops of brandy, the ould fashioned habit
In the church, lashin' down pounds and fivers
So Matty would be fine in the old by and by