I'm livin in Drumlister,
An' I'm gettin' very oul'
I have to wear an Indian bag
To save me from the coul'.
The deil a man in this townlan'
Wos claner raired nor me,
But I'm livin' in Drumlister
In clabber to the knee.
Me da lived up in Carmin
An kep' a sarvint boy
His second wife wos very sharp
He birried her with joy
Now she wos thin, her name was Flynn
She come from Cullentra
An' if me shirt's a clatty shirt
The man to blame's me da.
So I'm livin in Drumlister,
An' I'm gettin' very oul'
I creep to Carmin wanst a month
To thry an' make me sowl'
The deil a man in this townlan'
Wos claner raired nor me,
An I'm dyin' in Drumlister
In clabber to the knee.
By “The Bard of Tyrone” The Reverend W.F. Marshall
