Now Councilman O'Hoolihan do'n' t b'lave in annixation, He says thim Phillypynos air the r-r-ruin av the nation. He says this counthry's job is jist a-mindin’ av her biz, And imparyilism's thrayson, so ut is, so ut is.
But big Moike Macnamara, him that runs the gin saloon, He wants the nomina-a-tion, so he sings a different chune; He's a-howlin’ fer ixpansion, so he puts ut on the shlate Thot he challenged Dan O'Hoolihan ter have a j'int debate.
Ho, ho! Begorra! Oi wisht that ye‘ d been there! Ho, ho! Begorra!‘ Twas lovely, Oi declare; The langwudge, sure‘ t was iligant, the rhitoric was great, Whin Dan and Mack, they had ut back,
At our big j'int debate. ‘ T was in the War-r-d Athletic Club we had ut fixed ter hear‘ em, And all the sates was crowded, fer the gang was there ter cheer‘ em; A foine debatin’ platfor-r-m had been built inside the ring,
And iverybuddy said‘ t was jist the thing, jist the thing. O'Hoolihan, he shtarted off be sayin’, ut was safe Ter say that aich ixpansionist was jist a murth'rin thafe; And, whin I saw big Mack turn rid, and shtart ter lave his sate,
Oi knew we‘ d have a gor-r-geous toime at our big j'int debate. Thin Moike he tuk his tur-r-n ter shpake, “Av Oi wance laid me hand,” Says he, “upon an‘ Anti,’ faith! Oi'd make his nose ixpand; Oi‘ d face the schnakin’ blackguar-r-d, and Oi'd baste him where he shtood.
Oi'd annix him to a graveyard, so Oi would, so Oi would!” Thin up jumped Dan O'Hoolihan a-roar-r-in’ out “Yez loie!” And flung his b'aver hat at Mack, and plunked him in the eye; And Moike he niver shtopped ter talk, but grappled wid him straight,
And the ar-r-gymint got loively thin, at our big j'int debate. Oi niver in me loife have seen sich char-r-min’ illycution, The gistures av thim wid their fists was grand in ixecution; We tried to be impar-r-tial, so no favoroite we made,
But jist sicked them on tergither, yis indade, yis indade. And nayther wan was half convinced whin Sar-r-gint Leary came, Wid near a dozen other cops, and stopped the purty game; But niver did Oi see dhress-suits in sich a mortial state
As thim the or-r-ators had on at our big j'int debate. Ho, ho! Begorra! Oi wisht that ye'd been there! Ho, ho! Begorra! The foight was on the square; Ter see the wagon goin’ off, wid thim two on the sate!—
Oi‘ d loike ter shtroike,‘ twixt Dan and Moilce, Another j'int debate.
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