For sure I’m not wanting to meet you there,
Impudent Barney O’Hea.
For Corney’s at Cork, and my brother’s at work,
And my mother sits spinning at home all the day;
So no one will be there, of poor me to take care,
And I hope you won’t follow me, Barney O’Hea.
Impudent Barney—
None of your blarney,
Impudent Barney O’Hea.
But as I was walking up Bandon Street,