As for me, my dear boys, if a row I was in it,
I’d rather run for a mile than fight for a minute;
And I would advise all to have done with such capers,
And just stay at home to look after the taters.
Old Dennis Mahoney got up in a tree,
His musket was loaded with skillagalee,
Blood-an-ouns, said old Denny, I’m a Fenian, here goes,
He fired, and shot two policemen under the nose;
The bough of the tree with old Dennis soon broke,
And Dennis came down like a pig in a poke.