The Smoking Habit


THE SMOKING HABIT
To kick the smoking habit, is very hard you know,
for a cure for this addiction, I’ve searched both high and low.
I’ve tried so hard so many times, this affliction I must beat,
I’m not too bad as the day goes on, but the evening brings defeat

I gave them up one day last year, I was like a bear,
At the slightest aggravation, I would shout and curse and swear.
I persisted through the day, t’was tough going I recall,
My wife said “for God’s sake, smoke a fag before you ate us all”

P.J Carroll and John Player and all the rest as well,
the makers of those cigarettes should be transported down to hell.
They should be quite at home down there, with plenty smoke and ash,

serves them right for destroying our lungs and taking all our cash
 

Bill Connie


“Bill Connie”
Our home was a roving house, where neighbours came to chat, you could have Tade or John or Mike or some nights you’d have Pat.
On Sunday’s William Murphy came, he never failed to call, we knew him as Bill Connie, sure he was the best of all
He was a jovial sort of man, with stories old and new and if you’ve time to listen, I remember one or two
Now Bill, he owned a farm, just up the road from us, and he worked that farm very well but never with a fuss He’d milk his cow and till the land and cut the corn and hay but when the evening came around, t’was stories all the way.
Another man lived down the road, Tim Murphy was his name, farming morning noon and night, hard work was his game
They say he was a stern man rather dull and dower he go to town and home again within a half an hour.
Now Bill would go to town himself, a few pints he would sample on his return, Bill ‘s wife would give Tim as the example
Tis’nt now Tim’s coming home,” she’d say and Bill would shake his head he’s home these past three hours or more, and sensibly in bed”.
Now Timmy Murphy passed away to coin an old adage and Bill joined with the neighbours to accompany the cortege
The prayers all done, the church was locked , poor Tim legt there alone
No;; jeaded for the nearest pub, with the others from Killowen
When Bill came home he called his wife and he said I’ m feeling great, you often said I was last home, but to-night I have him BATE
I remember another instance too, when mem’ries start to flow, I was only nine or ten, going to the cattle show My money it was sparse enough the truth I will relate, but financial troubles vanished when Bill came out his gate

The Missing Scissors


THE MISSING SCISSORS
“I wonder where the scissors is”, says the missus unto Jack,
“You took it out the other day and you never brought it back”
What will I do with that man of mine he is an awful card,
everything we have inside, he takes out to the yard.
 
Now I don’t mind him using them, to refuse would be a sin,
 but when he’s finished using them, you think he’d bring them in.
The kettle or the teapot could finish up outside,
 to stop him from this habit indeed God knows I’ve tried
 
 I went to town the other day, ‘I won’t be long’ I said,
When I came back, he was outside washing down the shed.
He had a white cloth in his hand, my nerves went into flitters,
When I discovered that white cloth was my brand new knickers.
 
Now every Sunday after Mass, I constantly suggest,
to put away new shirt and tie, they are his ‘Sunday best’ &nbs