If You Ever Go To Dublin Town

If you ever go to Dublin town In A hundred years or so Inquire for in Baggot Street And what is was like to know O he was the queer one Fol do did dil li do He was a queer one I tell you My great-grandmother knew him well, He asked her to come and call On him in his flat and she giggled at the thought Of a young girl's lovely fall. O he was dangerous, Fol do did dil li do He was dangerous, And I tell you On Pembroke Road look out for my ghost, Dishevelled with shoes untied, Playing through the railings with little children Whose children have long since died. O he was a nice man, Fol do did dil li do He was a nice man And I tell you Go into a pub and listen well If my voice still echoes there, Ask the men what their grandsires thought And tell them to answer fair, O he was eccentric, Fol do did dil li do He was eccentric And I tell you He had the knack of making men feel As small as they really were Which meant as great as God had made them But as malesl they disliked his air. O he was a proud one, Fol do did dil li do He was a proud one And I tell you If ever you go to Dublin town In a hundred years or so Sniff for my perso-nality, Is it Vanity's vapour now? O he was a vain one, Fol do did dil li do He was a vain one And I tell you I saw his name with a hundred more In a book in the library, It said he had never fully achieved His potentiali-ty. O he was slothful, Fol do did dil li do He was slothful And I tell you He knew that posterity had no use For anything but the soul, The lines that speak the passionate heart, The spirit that lives alone. O he was a lone one, Fol do did dil li do O he was a lone one, And I tell you O he was a lone one, Fol do did dil li do Yet he lived happily And I tell you