Listen for a while and I'll tell you the story
Of how I fell in love with the Rose of Tralee

It was about five o'clock in the morning, ladies and gentlemen
I was only after gettin' off the mail boat
I was walking down the North Wall
Minding me own business
With me suitcase under me arm
Sitting down every minute
Till a voice behind me went
Hello, hello, hello
Where do you think you're going
At this hour of the morning?

I turned around, ladies and gentlemen
And who do you think was standin' behind me
Only the Rose of Tralee
And she wearin' a grand new blue Ban Gardaí's uniform
I thought she was a super
How's it going there Rose
Jaysus girleen the last time I saw you
Was down below there in The Dome
Upstairs in the tent with Gaybo in the Pretty Polly tights
And all them beauty queens from
Tashkent, Istanbul, Bangkok and Liverpool and...
How's she cuttin' there Rose...
Can you account for your movements...
Ah Rose, there's no need to be like that
But I can give you all the movements you want
You'd better sharpen your pencil
You're goin' to be busy little woman
Christy's got a memory like a super-grass
I can remember things that never happened at all
The first thing I can remember
Is the 7th of May 1945
At the back of Donnelly's Hollow
The night before
Pa Connolly drove the Roadstone lorry
Into the Seven Springs
And St. Brigid started rollin' out the Tintawn
Across the Curragh of Kildare
Then I woke up one morning
It was after gettin' conscripted into the altar boys
I was ringin' the bells and swingin' the thurible
Sure the smell of the incense
Would remind you of the inside of an Arab's tent
And no sign of Ghaddafi nowhere
In those days Down in Newbridge Co. Kildare
An altar boy would get a pound for a funeral
Two pound for a wedding
And a good kick up in the arse
If he didn't put enough wine in the chalice
At he early mass
Ah! "Ita Missa Est" says Rose
"Gloria Tibi Domine" says I
I didn't know you had to have the Latin
To get into Templemore
I love to hear the old bit of Latin
The old Tridentine
"Kyrie Eleison"
I can't stand them Folk Masses
All them trendy priests
Trippin' over each other
To sing ballads at half time in the Bingo
Sure the Nine First Fridays never killed anyone
Well! The next thing I knew, Rose
I was servin' me time to be
A corner boy up in the Curragh Camp
I was trying to teach the sheep how to talk Irish
Then I got a job selling lambs balls to mushroom farmers
That couldn't afford horseshite
One day I was walkin' across the Curragh of Kildare
And I fell into an officer's mess
I ended up in the F.C.A
Squarebashin' around the wet canteen
Until the commanding officer heard
That me Granny once confessed
To a fellow whose
Sister's brother in law was
Married to a man whose
First cousin used to fill
Hot water bottles for Patrick Sarsfield
Before the battle of Clongorey
I had to go on the run

Gubu gubu...

I ran so fast that I ended up in Paddington
A million miles away from The Land Of saints and scholars
I was
Diggin' Footins Scrapin' Pots
Pullin' cable Startin' Drotts
Boilin' Kettles Makin' Tea
Diggin' Deep Rose and Thrown Away

I was a disposable Paddy
Servin' me time to be a
Co-Pilot on a kango hammer in Shepherd's Bush
Doin' 86 MPH on a JCB down the Kilburn High Road
When the SPG flagged me down and held me under the PTA
Until I got away and went underground with the Green Murphy
One Thursday night I was headin' down the Hammersmith Broadway
I met a friend of mine from Ballaghadereenin the Co. Roscommon
Who was a demolition expert - Georgian houses were his speciality
Any chance for a start? What would you know about demolition?
Well, Monday mornin' came myself, Roger Sherlock, Liam Farrell, Martin Byrnes, Raymond Roland Tony Rohr
We was paintin' a door
We gave her six coats and three coats more, that was just the undercoat
The ganger was fond of a tune-Thursday never came too soon
We were gettin' five pounds a day and all we could ate
But it's an awful job Tryin' to eat all day
To make a long story short, Rose
I went lookin' for digs
I went up and knocked at the door, this big English woman comes out
Took one look at me and she went
Get away from my door sez she
There'll be absolutely no blacks nor paddies gettin' in here'
So I let on I was a white South African
And I tried to join the British Army to better myself
I volunteered as sub-contractor buildin' houses with no doors nor handles on them
The recruiting officer says to me
'What ye bin doin' lately then, Paddy?

I was helpin' O'Brien to shift it Sir says I
Before that I was spreadin' the toxic all over the Golden Vale
Helpin' Mr. Gallagher cover Stephen's Green in concrete Sir
Helpin' Sam Stevenson block all the daylight out of Dublin
Helpin' Dr. Smurfit relocate the Liffey
Helpin' Lord O'Reilly to count the golden beans
I was dolin' out the Diddly-Eye for Dr. Darragh
Puttin' in the bugs for Cathaoirleach
Vacuum packin' T-Bone steaks for Larry Maith an Fear seekin' out the heart of the Green Core
Bejasus Paddy you're overqualified for the British Army
I'm afraid I'll have to deport you out of England
Total exclusion
And he did

Here I am, Rose
Ar ais arís
This is some welcome for a returned immigrant
Céad Míle Fáilte my arse
With your pioneer pin and your fáinne
And your white star for not cursing
Jaysus, it would be more in your line to give me a lift in the squad car into town
And she did

There wew were Cruisin' down Capel Street in the White Squad
Looking for the Early Morning House
Will ye look Rose There's Paddy Slattery
'You're welcome home, Christy', says Paddy
Big Slate!
'I suppose you and your girlfriend are looking for a drink'
Well, off came the cap. She flung it into the back seat of the squad
And in with her like a bat out a hell
'I'll have a Brandy with a small drop of Port I never drink pints when I'm on duty'
Brandy and Port!
T'was like throwin' water into a barrel of sawdust
She lowered it up and of course... No wallet
Roll on the Holy Hour', says I
I'll see you tonight sez she 'twill be my twist'

Ladies and gentlemen, there I was outside the GPO waitin' for
The most beautiful Kerry woman in the whole wide world
Here she comes, Holy Mother of Sweet Divine Jesus in Heaven would you ever look at that...
Sashaying down the Boulevardin her Doc's and her 501's
Hey Rose! Over here...
'What's on your mind big fellah' says she to me
I was wearin' me platforms
I wouldn't mind a bit of a dance, Rose
She took me to a discoin the Gardai club in Harcourt Street
Le Baton Rouge... A tidy little spot up Harcourt Street
Watch out for the quadruple parking, bald tyres and no tax discs
In there... Wall to wall moustaches, gay bikers on acid
Myself and the Rose of Tralee danced the night away
Until about five O'clock in the morning when says she to me
'Fancy comin' back to my place then Lofty?'
Does a bear shite in the woods?

Away with us, me hangin' out of her on the back of the Honda50
Up through Rathmines and Rathgar into Ranelagh
Pullin' into the 24-7 open 9-11, 6 days a week
Two donor kebabs and the Leinster Leader
Up to her place then
Two up, two down
She pulled the cork out of the Blue Nun
And I got sick all over the Rottweiler
And she put some music on
Lovely new CD., Daniel
"Oh then fare thee well sweet Donegal
The Roses and Gweedore"
Oh Rose. Oh Daniel
Ah here, I suppose a rasher sandwiches out of the question?

That's how I met up with The Rose of Tralee