You've all heard of Larry O'Toole,
Of the beautiful town of Drumgoole;
He had but one eye,
To ogle ye by —
Oh, murther, but that was a jew'l!
A fool
He made of de girls, dis O'Toole.
‘ Twas he was the boy did n't fail,
That tuck down pataties and mail;
He never would shrink
From any sthrong dthrink,
Was it whisky or Drogheda ale;
I'm bail
This Larry would swallow a pail.
Oh, many a night at the bowl,
With Larry I've sot cheek by jowl;
He's gone to his rest,
Where's there's dthrink of the best,
And so let us give his old sowl
A howl,
For‘ twas he made the noggin to rowl.