The Choice
Saint Joseph, let you send me a comrade true and kind,
For the one I'm after seeking, it beats the world to find.
There's Christy Shee's a decent lad, but he's too lank and tall;
And Shaneen Burke will never do, for he's a foot too small.
John Heffernan has gold enough, but sure he'd have me bet
With talkin' of the wife that died a year before we met.
Young Pat Delaney suits my mind, but he's a thrifle wild;
And Tim I've known too well itself from since I was a child.
Old Dennis Morrissey has pigs, and cattle in the byre,
But, someways, I don't fancy him the far side o' the fire.
I'd have Saint Joseph choose me a comrade rich and kind—
And if it's Terry Sullivan—maybe I mightn't mind.
For the one I'm after seeking, it beats the world to find.
There's Christy Shee's a decent lad, but he's too lank and tall;
And Shaneen Burke will never do, for he's a foot too small.
John Heffernan has gold enough, but sure he'd have me bet
With talkin' of the wife that died a year before we met.
Young Pat Delaney suits my mind, but he's a thrifle wild;
And Tim I've known too well itself from since I was a child.
Old Dennis Morrissey has pigs, and cattle in the byre,
But, someways, I don't fancy him the far side o' the fire.
I'd have Saint Joseph choose me a comrade rich and kind—
And if it's Terry Sullivan—maybe I mightn't mind.
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