Come all you gallant Irishmen, wherever that you be
I hope you'll pay attention and listen unto me
I'll sing about a battle that took place the other day
Between a Russian sailor and gallant Morrissey

T'was in Tierra Del Fuego in South America
The Russian challenged Morrissey these words to him did say
I hear you are a fighting man you wear the belt I see
Indeed I wish you would consent to have a round with me

Then out spoke brave Morrissey with heart both brave and true
I am a valiant Irishman that nevеr was subdued
For I can beat the Yankee, thе Saxon, Bull or Bear
In honour of old Paddy's land, I'll still the laurels wear

They shook hands and walked around the ring commencing then to fight
It filled each Irish heart with joy to behold the sight
The Russian he floored Morrissey up to the eleventh round
With Yankee, Russian, Saxon cheers the valley did resound

The Irish offered four to one that day upon the grass
No sooner said than taken up and down they laid their cash
They battled away without delay up to the twenty-second round
When Morrissey received a blow which brought him to the ground

Up to the thirty-seventh round 'twas fall and fall about
Which made the foreign tyrant for to keep a sharp look out
The Russian called his seconds to pour a glass of wine
Our Irish hero smiled and said this battle will be mine
The thirty-eighth round decided all, the Russian felt as smart
As Morrissey with a dreadful blow struck him on the heart
The doctor, he was called in to open up a vein
Her said "it is quite useless, he will never fight again"

Now to hear the shouts of the Irishman, it grieved the Yankee sore
For to see that eighteen stone man whose height was 6 foot four
They drank a health to [?] and made the taverns roar
In honor of bold Morrissey and the shamrock belt he wore