St Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
He built his church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O'Shaughnessy
His uncle was a Brady
The Wicklow Hills are very high
And so is the Hill of Howth sir
There's a hill much higher still
Higher than them both sir
On the top of this high hill
St Patrick preached his sermon
Which drove the frogs into the bogs
And banished all the vermin
There's not a mile in Eireann's Isle
Where dirty vermin musters
There he put his dear fore-foot
And murdered them in clusters
The frogs went hop, the toads went plop
Slapdash into the water
And the snakes committed suicide
To save themselves from slaughter
900.000 reptiles blue
He charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them in Killaloe
On soups and second courses
Where blind worms crawling in the grass
Disgusted all the nation
Right down to Hell with the Holy Spell
He changed their situation
No wonder that these Irish guys
Could be so gay and frisky
Sure St Pat, He taught them that
As well as making whisky
No wonder that the Saint himself
Should understand distilling
His father kept a sheebeen shop
In the town of Enniskillen
Well was I but so fortunate
As to be back in Munster
I'd be bound that from that ground
I never more would once stir
There St. Patrick planted turf cabbages and praties
Pigs galore, mo gra mo store, altar boys and ladies
St Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
He built his church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O'Shaughnessy
His uncle was a Brady
The Wicklow Hills are very high
And so is the hill of Howth sir
There's a Hill much higher still
Higher than them both sir
Success to bold St Patrick's fist
He was a saint so clever
He gave the snakes an awful twist
And banished them forever
He came from decent people
He built his church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O'Shaughnessy
His uncle was a Brady
The Wicklow Hills are very high
And so is the Hill of Howth sir
There's a hill much higher still
Higher than them both sir
On the top of this high hill
St Patrick preached his sermon
Which drove the frogs into the bogs
And banished all the vermin
There's not a mile in Eireann's Isle
Where dirty vermin musters
There he put his dear fore-foot
And murdered them in clusters
The frogs went hop, the toads went plop
Slapdash into the water
And the snakes committed suicide
To save themselves from slaughter
900.000 reptiles blue
He charmed with sweet discourses
And dined on them in Killaloe
On soups and second courses
Where blind worms crawling in the grass
Disgusted all the nation
Right down to Hell with the Holy Spell
He changed their situation
No wonder that these Irish guys
Could be so gay and frisky
Sure St Pat, He taught them that
As well as making whisky
No wonder that the Saint himself
Should understand distilling
His father kept a sheebeen shop
In the town of Enniskillen
Well was I but so fortunate
As to be back in Munster
I'd be bound that from that ground
I never more would once stir
There St. Patrick planted turf cabbages and praties
Pigs galore, mo gra mo store, altar boys and ladies
St Patrick was a gentleman
He came from decent people
He built his church in Dublin Town
And on it put a steeple
His father was a Gallagher
His mother was a Grady
His aunt was an O'Shaughnessy
His uncle was a Brady
The Wicklow Hills are very high
And so is the hill of Howth sir
There's a Hill much higher still
Higher than them both sir
Success to bold St Patrick's fist
He was a saint so clever
He gave the snakes an awful twist
And banished them forever