IRISH BALLAD, THE
Tom Lehrer

Tom Lehrer (vocal & piano)  
rec Jan 22nd 1953 Boston


About a maid I'll sing a song,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who didn't have her family long;
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did every one of them in, them in,
She did every one of them in!

One morning, in a fit of pique,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
One morning, in a fit of pique
She drowned her father in the creek;
The water tasted bad for a week
And we had to make do with gin, with gin,
We had to make do with gin!

Her mother she could never stand,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
Her mother she could never stand
And so a cyanide soup she planned;
The mother died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin,
Her face in a hideous grin!

She set her sister's hair on fire,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
She set her sister's hair on fire
And as the smoke and flames rose higher,
danced around the funeral pyre,
Playin' a violin, -olin,
Playin' a violin!

She weighed her brother down with stones,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
She weighed her brother down with stones
And sent him down to Davy Jones;
All they ever found was some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin!

One day, when she had nothing to do,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
One day, when she had nothing to do,
She cut her baby brother in two
And served him up as an Irish stew,
And invited the neighbours in, 'bours in,
Invited the neighbours in!

And when at last the police came by,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
And when at last the police came by
Her little pranks she did not deny;
To do so she would have had to lie,
And lying she knew was a sin, a sin,
Lying she knew was a sin!

My tragic tale I won't prolong,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
My tragic tale I won't prolong
And if you don't enjoy my song,
You've yourself to blame if it's too long,
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin!






(Contributed by Peter Akers - December 2010)