I'm a decent boy just landed from the town of Ballyfad
Oh I want a situation and I want it mighty bad
A position I saw advertised, 'tis the thing for me, say I
But the dirty spáilpín ended with “No Irish Need Apply.”

Oh says I, “But that’s an insult, but to get this place I’ll try”
So I went to see that blackguard with No Irish Need Apply
Well some may think it a misfortune to be christened Pat or Dan
But to me it is an honor to be born an Irishman.

I started out to find the house and found it very soon
There I find the old chap seated he was reading the Tribune
I told him what I came for and he in a rage did fly
“No,” he says, “you are a Paddy and no Irish need apply”

Then I gets my dander rising and I’d like to black his eye
To tell an Irish gentleman “No Irish Need Apply”
Well some may think it a misfortune to be christened Pat or Dan
But to me it is an honor to be born an Irishman.

Well I couldn’t stand his nonsense so ahold of him I took
And I gave him such a beatin’ as he'd get in Donnybrook
And he hollered “Milia murther!” and to get away did try
And swore he'd never write again “No Irish Need Apply.”

He made a big apology and I bid him then goodbye
Saying when next you want a beatin’ write “No Irish Need Apply”
Well some may think it a misfortune to be christened Pat or Dan
But to me it is an honor to be born an Irishman.

Sure I’ve heard that in America it always is the plan
That an Irishman is just as good as any other man
Now home and hospitality they never will deny
To strangers here, or ever say “No Irish Need Apply.”

Ah, but some black sheep are in the flock, a dirty lot, says I
A decent man will never write “No Irish Need Apply”
Well some may think it a misfortune to be christened Pat or Dan
But to me it is an honor to be born an Irishman.


IRELAND, MOTHER IRELAND (Raymond Loughborough -- P.J. O'Reilly)

Oh land of love and beauty to you our hearts are wed
To you in glorious beauty we ever bow our head
Oh perfect loving mother, your exiled children all
Across the sundering seas to you in fond devotion call.

If you sigh we hear you, if you weep we heed
In your hours of gladness, how our pulses leap
Ireland, Mother Ireland, let what may befall
Ever shall we hold you, dearest, best of all.

Dear Isle across the ocean, dear loving land of ours
May your days be sunny, and your way a way of flowers
Wide though be we scattered, by every vale or hill
All the love you gave to us we keep and cherish still.


MOTHER MACHREE (Rida Johnson Young -- Chauncey Olcott and Ernest R. Ball)

There’s a spot in my heart which no colleen may own
There’s a depth in my soul never sounded unknown
There’s a place in my memory, my life that you fill
No other can take it, no one ever will.

Sure, I love the dear silver that shines in your hair
And the brow that's all furrowed and wrinkled with care
I kiss the dear fingers so toil-worn for me
Oh God bless you and keep you, Mother Machree.

Every sorrow or care in the dear days gone by
Was made bright by the light of the smile in your eyes
Like a candle that's set in a window at night
Your fond love has cheered me and guided me right.


SAINT PATRICK’S DAY PARADE (Johnny Lange -- Hy Heath)

I’ll be marchin’ along in the big parade on St. Patrick’s Day
I’ll be up to me neck in shamrocks as I march along the way
I’ll swing that old shillelagh as I wave to each colleen
I’ll tip me ear the better to hear “The Wearin’ of the Green.”

Oh the Kellys from Killarney, the Burkes from Kildare
The Hallahans and Callahans who came from County Clare
There’ll be folks from dear old Dublin all the way to County Cork
They'll be marchin’ in the big parade right here in old New York.

Oh the mayor’ll be in the big parade, struttin’ high and grand
And behind him’ll march a thousand cops who come from Ireland
Those beautiful songs of Erin, the band will play them all
We'll march along, a-singin’ the song “The Harp Thro’ Tara’s Hall.”

Those sons and daughters of Erin, a hundred thousand strong
Will be singin’ the songs of Ireland as they march along
Their eyes will shine with laughter, their hearts will all be gay
When the Irish all turn out to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

We'll be marchin’ along in the big parade on St. Patrick’s Day
Not for all the tea in Dublin would I ever stay away
I'll trip the light fantastic and how proud I'm gonna feel
The band will play “Go Which a Go Way,” a good old Irish reel.

There’s be Cooney Mulrooney and Mickey O’Dowd
Cuttin’ up papers and pleasin’ the crowd
Then Hogan and Brogan will kick up their heels
Singin’ and dancin’ the jigs and the reels.

The Connells, O’Donnells, and Larry O’Toole
Moloney, Mahoney and Lefty O’Doul
Divvil a man as happy as they,
On St. Patrick’s Day.

I’ll be marchin’ along in the big parade, a twinkle in me eye
We’ll be proud as a thousand peacocks with our heads up in the sky
I’ll be there, you betcha when the band begins to play
And the Irish all turn out to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.


There’s a pretty spot in Ireland I always claim for my land
Where the fairies and the blarney will never never die
It’s the land of the shillelagh, my heart goes back there daily
To the girl I left behind me when we kissed and said goodbye.

Where dear old Shannon’s flowing, where the three-leaf shamrock grows
Where my heart is, I am going to my little Irish rose
And the moment that I meet her, with a hug and kiss I'll greet her
For there’s not a colleen sweeter where the river Shannon flows.

(Jimmy Kennedy -- Michael Carr)

Did your mother come from Ireland, ‘cause there's something in you Irish
Will you tell me where you get those Irish eyes?
And before she left Killarney, did your mother kiss the blarney?
‘Cause your little touch of brogue you can’t disguise.

Oh I wouldn’t be romancin’, I can almost see you dancin’
Where the Kerry pipers play
Sure and maybe we'll be sharin’ in the shamrock you’ll be wearin’
On the next St. Patrick's Day.

Did your mother come from Ireland, ‘cause there's something in you Irish
And that bit of Irish steals my heart away.


Who threw the overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder?
Nobody spoke so he shouted all the louder
It’s an Irish trick that’s true, I can lick the Mick who threw
The overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s chowder.

Mrs. Murphy gave a party ‘bout a week ago
Everything was plentiful well the Murphy’s they're not slow
They treated us like gentlemen, we tried to act the same
Only for what happened, it was an awful shame.

Mrs. Murphy dished the chowder out and fainted on the spot
She found a pair of overalls at the bottom of the pot
Tim Nolan he got rippin’ mad, his eyes were bulgin’ out
He jumped upon the piano and loudly he did shout.


They dragged the pants from out the soup and laid them on the floor
Each man then swore upon his life he’d not seen ‘em before
They were plastered up with mortar and were worn out at the knee
They had their many ups and downs as we could plainly see.

When Mrs. Murphy she came to, she starts to cry and pout
She’d had them in the wash that day, forgot to take ‘em out
Tim Nolan he excused himself for what he’d said that night
So we put music to the words and sung with all our might:



Oh fifty years ago me father left old Erin’s shore
He landed here, a shillelagh in hand and divvil a penny more
He got a job and got a wife and then a family
And then he died and left his old shillelagh stick to me

Chorus (both this stanza and the next):
Sure it’s the same old shillelagh me father brought from Ireland
And divvil a man was prouder than he as he walked with it in his hand
He’d lead the band on Paddy’s Day and twirl it ‘round his mitts
And divvil a bit we’d laugh at it, for Daddy would have a fit.

Sure with the same old shillelagh me father could lick a dozen men
As fast as they’d get up, begorra, he’d knock ‘em down again
And many’s the time he used it on me to make me understand
The same old shillelagh me father brought from Ireland.

I'm goin’ on the police force, it’s the only thing to do
Instead of having one night stick, begorra, I'll have two
If there’s a fight I’ll be allright, there's no one bothers me
Because I have the old shillelagh me father gave to me.


WHEN IRISH EYES ARE SMILING (Ernest R. Ball--Chauncey Olcott--George Graff)

When Irish eyes are smiling
Sure ‘tis like a morning spring
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing.

When Irish eyes are happy
All the world seems bright and gay
And when Irish eyes are smiling
Sure they steal your heart away.


MACNAMARA’S BAND (O’Connor – Stanford)

Oh, me name is MacNamara, I’m the leader of the band
Although we’re few in numbers, we’re the finest in the land
We play at wakes and weddings and at every fancy ball
And when we play the funerals, we play the March from Saul

Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang and the horns they blaze away
McCarthy pumps the old bassoon while I the pipes do play
And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute and the music is somethin’ grand
A credit to old Ireland is MacNamara’s band

Right now we are rehearsin’ for a very swell affair
The annual celebration, all the gentry will be there
When General Grant to Ireland came he took me by the hand
Says he, “I never saw the likes of MacNamara’s Band”


Oh, my name is Uncle Julius and from Sweden I did come
To play with MacNamara’s Band and beat the big bass drum
And when I march along the street the ladies think I'm grand
They shout, “There’s Uncle Julius playin’ with an Irish band!”

Oh, I wear a bunch of shamrocks and a uniform of green
And I’m the funniest lookin’ Swede that you have ever seen
There is O’Brians, O’Ryans, O’Sheehans and Meehans, they come from Ireland
But, by yimminy, I’m the only Swede in MacNamara’s Band