It is of an American
A tale to you I'll tell
To find ancestral roots he came
To Ireland for a spell
The last night was a banquet,
The best he'd ever seen
And while he dined an orchestra
Was playing evergreens
He ate and drank and drank and ate
And listened to the songs
And all the while he hoped for one
Where he could sing along
So he approached the leader
To ask his orchestra
If they would play a favourite
Of his Irish grandmother
"She sang to me when at her knee
I played with childhood toys
I thought tonight I'd hear you play
Her song 'Paddy me boy'
"It was", said he "a rare old song
My grandmother's great joy
So please be quick and wave your stick
And play 'Paddy me boy'"
The orchestra were at a loss,
They didn't know the tune
The leader said "Its getting late,
We're due to finish soon
But we're here to please you,
We've no wish to annoy
If you can hum or whistle it,
We'll play 'Paddy me boy'"
He smiled his modest smile,
He'd much to be shy about
He had a think, he took a drink,
Was this a moment's doubt?
He blew his nose, he cleared his throat,
He coughed and struck a pose
"I'm not much of a singer, but
I'll do my best, here goes"
Oh…oh…oh…Oh Paddy me boy, is that the Chattanooga choo choo?
