Down and out of luck in Jobstown
Amid a gang of raconteurs
Womanizing brawlers and ombudsmen
With bags of pig meat and pearls
A braggart in the back asked the void, with an axe
Where from here, we should go
What did you bring your Daddy boys
To keep him from the gallis pole?

Yeah
Now things will never be the same
As long as my blood can still sign my name here
I'll be there with a toffee apple on a crutch
Not saying much
When we reconstruct
The fall of the Roman Empire

Every day is like a Sunday
Nothing much to see or do
I've got a mother in the motherland
But the motherland is through
The Garda band plays, Lord God, again
Bum titty bum titty bum
I'm suffering from the sight of folly
Waged in the name of jollity
Upon the less fortunate ones

Yeah
Now things will never be the same
As long as my blood can still sign my name here
I'll be there with a toffee apple on a crutch
Not saying much
When we reconstruct
The fall of the Roman Empire

I'll be there with a toffee apple on a crutch
Not saying much
When we reconstruct
The fall of the Roman Empire
The fall of the Roman Empire