John O'Reilly

My name is John O'Reilly

And my father worked the fields

In the hills of old Killarney

Where I helped him turn the wheels

My arms grew hard as iron for a boy of 17

And I used my fists for gambling in those wet Killarney streets

Well the ship left for America and I brought my pack aboard

Said goodbye to my dear Ireland said a prayer to my dear Lord

I fought those sorry guineas in the kitchen they called hell

I fought them for their dollar and those guineas paid me well

Chorus

Fair thee well fair Dover

Fair thee well your seasons turn

For my pockets will be jingling on the day of my return

The day of my return

I fought in New York City and I fought the Jersey shore

My gut stayed full of whiskey and my bed stayed full of whores

They called my right a cannonball and my left they called the same

I left em' all lyin' half in blood and half in shame

I met a man on '32 and he stuck out his hand

And he offered me a thousand if I'd fall before his man

I said it could be done but only for another two

He smiled at me and nodded as I stuck it in my shoe

Chorus

Fair thee well fair Dover

Fair thee well your seasons turn

For my pockets will be jingling on the day of my return

The day of my return

They rang the bell two times before I let him have my nose

And I let him work my left until my eye was swollen closed

Then I let loose a right that they still talk about today

For that guinea didn't know that I had bet the other way

They covered every dock and every port there on the coast

Looking for that double crosser who had turned into a ghost

But I was on a train my friend that rode the other way

And i'll sail from California back to Dublin one fine day

Chorus

Fair thee well fair Dover

Fair thee well your seasons turn

For my pockets will be jingling on the day of my return

The day of my return