Lyrics

Oh, me name is Mick McGuire
And I'll quickly tell to you
Of a young girl I admired
Called Katy Donahue
She was fair and fat and forty
And believe me when I say
That whenever I came in at the door
You could hear her mammy say:

"Johnny, get up from the fire
Get up and give the man a sate
Can't you see it's Mr McGuire
And he's courting your sister Kate
Ah, you know very well he owns a farm
A wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat
And let Mr McGuire sit down"

Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, you know very well he owns that farm
A wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat
And let Mr McGuire sit down"

Now, the first time that I met her
Was at a dance at Tarmagee
And I very kindly asked her
If she'd dance a step with me
Then I asked if I could see her home
If I'd be going her way
And whenever I come in at the door
You could hear her mammy say:

"Johnny, get up from the fire
Get up and give the man a sate
Can't you see it's Mr McGuire
And he's courting your sister Kate
Ah, you know very well he owns a farm
A wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat
And let Mr McGuire sit down"

Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, you know very well he owns that farm
A wee bit out of the town
Arragh, get up out of that, you impudent brat
And let Mr McGuire sit down"

Ah, but now that we are married
Sure her mother's changed her mind
Just because I spent the legacy
Her father left behind
She hasn't got the decency
To bid me time of day
Now whenever I come in at the door
You'd hear the old one say:

"Johnny, come up to the fire
Come up, you're sitting in the draft
Can't you see it's old McGuire
And he nearly drives me daft
Ah, I don't know what gets into him
For he's always on the tare
Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare
To give old McGuire the chair"

Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-owdle
Diddle e dowdle-owdle-ow
"Ah, I don't know what gets into him
For he's always on the tare
Arragh, just sit where you are and never you dare
To give old McGuire the chair"

The best known of Irish music-hall songs, this is about a young man with mother-in-law trouble.

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