The Dead Leprechaun

He was born in County Wexford, not far from the Irish Sea
And he weighed five pounds when he was born
To Patrick and Mary
He would grow to a strapping four feet tall
By the time that he was 3.

But is there anything sadder than a dead leprechaun?
He's hardly noticed when alive, but everyone knows he's gone.
Oh,he had to die, no reason for it, no good reason why.
This is a Celtic ballad and in Celtic music, they all die.

He rose up through the leprechaun ranks,
A small and sturdy lad
Picking out four leaf clovers and cheering up the sad.
The pinnacle was his when he was 21 years old,
He was chosen by his leaders to defend the pot of gold.

His time as guardian, alas, was ever short and sweet.
He came to work one afternoon, no shoes on his feet
A bolt of lightning crackled from the dark and stormy sky,
The lightning hit the pot of gold.
No time to say good bye.

Is there anything sadder than a fried leprechaun...



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Gutierrez-may
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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