Ireland, Oh Ireland

Drill Ye Tarriers, Drill

St. Paddy's Wagon

Black Eyed Susan

A Sheep For Mr. Wolff

Ah Dee Oh Da

The Poteen Man

Me Father Was A Shepherd

The Choir From Hell

The Shirt That No One Wore

My Donegal

Every Step Of The Road

The Shirt That No One Wore

The linen came from Belfast, The finest in the land
And all of the embroidery of course it was by hand
The lovely Celtic symbols Killarney never saw
The pride o' me family, Shirt that No One Wore

Well, me Grampa married Granny 60 years ago
In the best a suit of clothes he had
Borrowed from his brother, the seat baloney skin
Behold a skinny dirty shirty lad
Me Granny felt so bad for him she took a solemn vow
She'd sew the grandest shirt in Ireland
Started saving pennies up and shiny things she found
Her needle fairly flew to beat the band

A vestment pure and wonderful, don't touch... don't even look
Just take your grimy fingers far away
She kept it in the cedar chest beside the holy book
"I thought we'd save it for a Special Day"
For weddings and for funerals it stayed inside the trunk
The Christenings and years went flying by
No occasion met the test no banquet good enough
And if you did suggest it she would cry

I crept up to the attic, the chest I opened wide
The day we put poor Granny in the ground
Certainly the time was neigh to wear the holy cloth
Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph what I found

The linen all moth eaten, The thread had turned to sand
And all the embroidery it fell right in me hand
I laughed so hard I wet myself, no one ever saw
The pride o' me family, Shirt that No One Wore

© Trip McCool/ Dennis Dougherty