Well, I danced in the arms of a black haired girl In Scollay Square after the war And I drank to get drunk, and sank and I stunk Like a drunk on a subway floor And I never did marry Cathy O’Shea She met another and they went their way To the wind you’re a toy Just a drunk Irish boy Just a face in the crowd I’ll be back around To show you all something someday There are some things that must remain secret You can find no good reason to tell There’s too many men telling their secrets these days And I’d like to tell them to all go to hell So I never had dreams, and they never came true As far as you know anyway To the wind you’re a toy Just a drunk Irish boy Just a face in the crowd I’ll be back around To show you all something someday Gory be, glory be, to the highest of trees We used to climb, my brother and me High on her limbs, two laughing hyenas Over West Rocks Berrys Cemetery To the wind you’re a toy, just a thin Irish boy Coming back home from the war Just a face in the crowd Just a drunk and out loud Just you try looking down ’Cause I’ll be back around To show you all something someday To show you all something someday