Poor Paddy on the Railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-one
Me corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
From Hartlepool I moved to Crewe
Found meself a job to do
Working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling stitches,
Dancing on the line
Still working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I broke me shovel across me knee
On the Leeds to Selby railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on the Liverpool shore
Me belly was empty, me hands were raw
With working on the railway, the railway
Im sick to my guts of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When Daniel OConnell he was alive
When Daniel OConnell he was alive
And working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I changed me trade to carrying bricks
Changed me trade to carrying bricks
Still working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven
The old bugger was thinking of going to Heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im sick to my death of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
Me corduroy breeches I put on
Me corduroy breeches I put on
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im weary of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-two
From Hartlepool I moved to Crewe
Found meself a job to do
Working on the railway
I was wearing corduroy breeches
Digging ditches, pulling stitches,
Dancing on the line
Still working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-three
I broke me shovel across me knee
On the Leeds to Selby railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-four
I landed on the Liverpool shore
Me belly was empty, me hands were raw
With working on the railway, the railway
Im sick to my guts of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-five
When Daniel OConnell he was alive
When Daniel OConnell he was alive
And working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-six
I changed me trade to carrying bricks
Changed me trade to carrying bricks
Still working on the railway
In eighteen hundred and forty-seven
Poor Paddy was thinking of going to Heaven
The old bugger was thinking of going to Heaven
To work upon the railway, the railway
Im sick to my death of the railway
Poor Paddy works on the railway
Credits
Writer(s): Jeremy Max Finer, Andrew David Ranken, James Thirkhill Fearnley, Dp, Peter Spider Stacey, Shane Patrick Lysaght Mac-gowan, Cait O'riordan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.