(Chorus 1)
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
It's a great pity that I'm not the wife of PáidÃn
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
And the woman that he has to be dead
I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would go to Galway with PáidÃn
I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would return in the boat with him
Chorus 1
I would go to an Clochán
And west by Béal Ã' na Báighe
would look in through the windows
I would spot PáidÃn's wife
Chorus 1
May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs be broken, PáidÃn's wife
May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs and your bones be broken
Chorus 1
As I set out to old Dromore
With pike in hand to join a meitheal
Who should I meet but a tan puck goat
And he roaring mad in ferocious mettle
(Chorus 2)
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
He chased me over bush and weed
And through the bog the run proceeded
Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse
And on his back I jumped unheeded
Chorus 2
When the sergeant stood in Rochestown
With a force of guards to apprehend us
The goat, he tore his trousers down
And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders
Chorus 2
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
It's a great pity that I'm not the wife of PáidÃn
It's a great pity that I'm not, that I'm not
And the woman that he has to be dead
I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would go to Galway with PáidÃn
I would go to Galway, to Galway
And I would return in the boat with him
Chorus 1
I would go to an Clochán
And west by Béal Ã' na Báighe
would look in through the windows
I would spot PáidÃn's wife
Chorus 1
May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs be broken, PáidÃn's wife
May your legs be broken, be broken
May your legs and your bones be broken
Chorus 1
As I set out to old Dromore
With pike in hand to join a meitheal
Who should I meet but a tan puck goat
And he roaring mad in ferocious mettle
(Chorus 2)
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
Alliliú puilliliu
Alliliú tá an poc ar buile
He chased me over bush and weed
And through the bog the run proceeded
Til he caught his horns in a clump of gorse
And on his back I jumped unheeded
Chorus 2
When the sergeant stood in Rochestown
With a force of guards to apprehend us
The goat, he tore his trousers down
And made rags of his breeches and new suspenders
Chorus 2