Classic Poem

In eighteen hundred and forty one
I put me corduroy britches on,
I put me corduroy britches on,
To work upon the railway.

Chorus
Fi-li-me-oo-re-oo-re-ay,
Fi-li-me-oo-re-i-re-ay,
Fi-li-me-oo-re-i-re-ay,
To work upon the railway.

2

In eighteen hundred and forty-two
I left the old world for the new,
Bad cess to the luck that brought me through
To work upon the railway.
CHORUS : Fi-li-me, etc.

3

When we left Ireland to come here
And spend our latter days in cheer,
Our bosses, they did drink strong beer,
And we worked on the railway.
CHORUS : Fi-li-me, etc.

4

Our contractor's name it was Tom King.
He kept a store to rob the men—
A Yankee clerk with ink and pen
To cheat Pat on the railway.
CHORUS : Fi-li-me, etc.

5

It's “Pat, do this,” and “Pat, do that!”
Without a stocking or a hat,
And nothing but an old cravat,
While Pat works on the railway.
CHORUS : Fi-li-me, etc.

6

One Monday morning to our surprise,
Just half an hour before sun-rise,
The dirty divil went to the skies
And Pat worked on the railway.
CHORUS : Fi-li-me, etc.