There was a lady lived in Leith, A lady very stylish, man, And yet, in spite of all her teeth, She fell in love with an Irishman, A nasty ugly Irishman, A wild tremendous Irishman, A tearing, swearing, thumping, bumping, Ramping, roaring Irishman. His face was no ways beautiful, For with small-pox 'twas scarr'd across; And the shoulders of the ugly dog Were almost double a yard across. O, the lump of an Irishman, The whisky-devouring Irishman - The great he-rogue, with his wonderful brogue, The fighting, rioting, Irishman. One of his eyes was bottle-green, And the other eye was out, my dear; And the calves of his wicked-looking legs Were more than two feet about, my dear. O, the great big Irishman, The rattling, battling Irishman - The stamping, ramping, swaggering, staggering, Leathering swash of an Irishman. He took so much of Lundy-Foot, That he used to snort and snuffle-O; And in shape and size, the fellow's neck, Was as bad as the neck of a buffalo. O, the horrible Irishman, The thundering, blundering Irishman - The slashing, dashing, smashing, lashing, Thrashing, hashing, Irishman. His name was a terrible name, indeed, Being Timothy Thady Mulligan; And whenever he emptied his tumbler of punch, He'd not rest till he'd fill'd it full again. The boozing, bruising Irishman, The 'toxicated Irishman - The whisky, frisky, rummy, gummy, Brandy, no dandy Irishman. This was the lad the lady loved, Like all the girls of quality; And he broke the skulls of the men of Leith, Just by the way of jollity. O, the leathering Irishman, The barbarous, savage, Irishman - The hearts of the maids, and the gentlemen's heads, Were bother'd, I'm sure by this Irishman.
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