An Irish Ballad

Verse 1
About a maid I sing a song Sing rickety tickety tin About a maid I sing a song Who didn't have her family long Not only did she do them wrong She did every one of them in, them in She did every one of them in
Verse 2
One morning in a fit of pique Sing rickety tickety tin One morning in a fit of pique She drown her father in the creek The water tasted bad for a week So we had to make due with gin, with gin We had to make due with gin
Verse 3
Her mother she could never stand Sing rickety tickety tin Her mother she could never stand And so a cyanide stew she planned Her mother died with a spoon in her hand And her face in a hideous grin, a grin Her face in a hideous grin
Verse 4
She set her sisters hair on fire Sing rickety tickety tin She set her sisters hair on fire And as the smoke and flames rose higher She danced around the funeral pyre Playing a violin, 'olin Playing a violin
Verse 5
She weighted her brother down with stones Sing rickety tickety tin She weighed her brother down with stones And sent him off to Davy Jones All they ever found were some bones And occasional pieces of skin, of skin Occasional pieces of skin
(Sung)
Verse 6
One day when she had nothing to do Sing rickety tickety tin One day when she had nothing to do She cut her baby brother in two Served him up as an Irish Stew And invited the neighbors in, 'bors in And invited the neighbors in
Verse 7
And when at last the police came by Sing rickety tickety tin And when at last the police came by Her little pranks she could not deny To do so she would have had to lie And lying she knew was a sin, a sin And lying she knew was a sin
Verse 8
My ghastly tale I'll not prolong Sing rickety tickety tin My ghastly tale I'll not prolong And if you did not enjoy my song You've yourself to blame if it's too long You should never have let me begin, begin You should never have let me begin!
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