If You Ever Go To Dublin Town

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If you ever go to Dublin town  
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In A hundred years or so 
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Inquire for in Baggot Street 
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And what is was like to know 

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O he was the queer one   
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was a queer one                
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I tell you 

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My great-grandmother knew him well, 
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He asked her to come and call On him in his  
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flat and she giggled at the thought 
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Of a young girl's lovely fall. 

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O he was dangerous, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was dangerous, 
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And I tell you 

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On Pembroke Road look out for my ghost, 
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Dishevelled with shoes untied, 
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Playing through the railings with little children 
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Whose children have long since died. 

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O he was a nice man, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was a nice man 
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And I tell you  

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Go into a pub and listen well 
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If my voice still echoes there, 
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Ask the men what their grandsires thought 
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And tell them to answer fair, 

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O he was eccentric, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was eccentric 
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And I tell you  

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He had the knack of making men feel 
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As small as they really were 
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Which meant as great as God had made them 
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But as malesl they disliked his air. 

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O he was a proud one, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was a proud one 
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And I tell you 

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If ever you go to Dublin town 
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In a hundred years or so 
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Sniff for my perso-nality, 
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Is it Vanity's vapour now? 

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O he was a vain one, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was a vain one 
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And I tell you 

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I saw his name with a hundred more 
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In a book in the library, 
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It said he had never fully achieved 
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His potentiali-ty. 

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O he was slothful, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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He was slothful 
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And I tell you   

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He knew that posterity had no use 
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For anything but the soul, 
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The lines that speak the passionate heart, 
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The spirit that lives alone. 

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O he was a lone one, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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O he was a lone one, 
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And I tell you 

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O he was a lone one, 
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Fol do did dil li do 
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Yet he lived happily 
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And I tell you