The Little Drummer

One fine summer's mornin', both gallant and gay,
Twenty-four ladies went out on the quay,
And a regiment of soldiers soon passed 'em by,
A drummer and one of them soon caught his eye.

He went to his comrade, unto him did say:
"Twenty-four ladies I saw yesterday.
Oh, and one of them ladies, she has me heart won,
And if she denies me I'm surely undone."

"Well, go to this lady and tell her your plight,
Tell her she's wounded your poor heart inside.
Go and tell her she's wounded your poor heart, full sore,
And if she denies you what can you do more?"

So early next mornin' the young man arose,
Dressed himself up in a fine suit of clothes,
Put a watch in his pocket and a cane in his hand.
Saluting those ladies he walked down the strand.

Well, he went up to her and he said: "Pardon me,
Pardon me, lady, for making so free.
Oh, me fine honored lady, you have me heart won,
And if you deny me I'm surely undone."

"Be off, little drummer, now what do you mean?
For I'm the laird's daughter of Ballykisteen.
Oh, I'm the laird's daughter, of honour, you see.
Be off, little drummer, you're making too free."

So he put on his hat and he bade her farewell,
Saying: "I'll send me soul down to heaven or hell.
For with this long pistol that hangs by me side,
Oh, I'll put an end to me own dreary life."

"Come back, little drummer, now what do you mean?
For I do not want to be guilty of sin,
To be guilty of innocent blood for to spill.
Come back, little drummer, I'm here at your will.

And we'll hire a car, off to Bansha we'll go.
There we'll be married in spite of our foes.
For what can you say when it's over and done,
That I fell in love with the roll of your drum."