in the sweet county lim rick one cold winter s night all the turf fires were burning when i first saw the light and a drunken old midwife went tipsy with joy as she danced round the floor with her slip of a boy singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me then when i was a young lad of six years or so with me book and my pencil to school i did go to a dirty old school house without any door where lay the school master blind drunk on the floor singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me at the learning i wasn t such a genius i m thinking but i soon bet the master entirely at drinking not a wake or a wedding for five miles around but meself in the corner was sure to be found singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me then one sunday the priest read me out from the altar saying you ll end your days with your neck in a halter and you ll dance a fine jig betwix heaven and hell and his words they did haunt me the truth for to tell singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me so the very next morn as the dawn it did break i went down to the priest house the pledge for to take and in there in the room sat the priests in a bunch round a big roaring fire drinking tumblers of punch singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me well from that day to this i have wandered alone i m a jack of all trades and a master of none with the sky for me roof and the earth for me floor and i ll dance out my days drinking whiskey galore singing bainne na mb is an gamhna and the juice of the barley for me