Tinkers' Potcheen
I was born a tinker I'll tell you no lies:
A tinker I've lived and a tinker I'll die.
Now don't get me wrong; I carry no shame.
The Lord made me a tinker and I'm proud of me name.
Me father brewed poteen on Bessy's best range.
When I was twelve to me he did say:
"Well, son, you're of age and it's plain to be seen
It's time I taught you how to make the poteen."
Well, he taught me the trade and I learnt it well.
I made the finest poteen any tinker could sell,
And I used the same still that me da used before.
Aye, it's been in the family for a hundred years or more.
Well, I sold my poteen from Derry to Cobh,
From Donegal to Dublin and around by Mayo.
Through the 32 counties I'm free to roam.
Aye, the poteen's me livin' and the roadside's me home.
Well, I married a tinker, a colleen so fair.
Her father and mother were tinkers from Clare.
To have me a son is my fondest dream.
How I'd love teachin' him how to make the poteen!
I would teach him the trade in a tinker's poteen.
A tinker I've lived and a tinker I'll die.
Now don't get me wrong; I carry no shame.
The Lord made me a tinker and I'm proud of me name.
Me father brewed poteen on Bessy's best range.
When I was twelve to me he did say:
"Well, son, you're of age and it's plain to be seen
It's time I taught you how to make the poteen."
Well, he taught me the trade and I learnt it well.
I made the finest poteen any tinker could sell,
And I used the same still that me da used before.
Aye, it's been in the family for a hundred years or more.
Well, I sold my poteen from Derry to Cobh,
From Donegal to Dublin and around by Mayo.
Through the 32 counties I'm free to roam.
Aye, the poteen's me livin' and the roadside's me home.
Well, I married a tinker, a colleen so fair.
Her father and mother were tinkers from Clare.
To have me a son is my fondest dream.
How I'd love teachin' him how to make the poteen!
I would teach him the trade in a tinker's poteen.
Credits
Writer(s): Traditional
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