The Foghorn Stringband - Paddy on the Turnpike lyrics

rate me

(Verse)

He's Paddy on the Turnpike, the man with the muddy boots

The boy with the drum and the flute and the gun

That neva learned to shoot

He's a poet and a character and he rings to freedom bell

To preach the gospel half possessed in a pushcart bound for hell

(Chorus)

Paddy on the Turnpike and he's tearing through the land

A drink of rum and a Thompson gun

And a bible in his hand

Don't be talking to him for you'll neva be the same

Before u know you'll go and join his patriotic game

(Verse 2)

He's Paddy out in Boston with the whiskey in his hand

He's a rover, he's a joker, and the son of a highway man

He's a sailor down in Melbourne, and a priest in Bethlehem

And he'll give u his all if u happen to fail

Then he'll knock u down again

(Chorus)

(Bridge)

You'll find him in the jungle teaching boys the art of war

You'll hear him in Calcutta reading Kipling at the bar

He's yo man for every season with boot feet in his gub

He'll read yo stars and show u his scars

If you're buying in the pub

(Outro)

Foreva till tomorrow good as gold that's made of brass

You can trust him with yo life or yo secrets till the last

But u betta lock yo women up or hide yo whiskey neat

For he's the Paddy on the Turnpike that you'll neva want to meet