Funky Céilí (Bridie’s Song)

[intro]
Bridie! Bridie girl!

Bridie was teachin' out in Carysfort
I was working in the bank
Two paychecks every Friday
And a Morris Minor out in the back

But I was mad for jigs and reels
Drinking dirty big pints of stout
When the Bank of Ireland gave me the boot
They said "Don't let the door hit your arse
On the way out"

[instrumental break]

Fiddlee, diddlee, deidely, dee
I was born to play the funky céilí
Over the seas and far away, off to Americay
Fiddlee, diddlee, deidely, dee
Where the wild, wild women were waitin' for me

Think of me, Bridie
Whenever you see me there on your MTV
I love you, acushla, but how could I be
Without me punky, funky céilí

Bridie broke down and started to bawl
When I told her about me divorce from the bank
She said "I've got news of me own a stor
I'm two months late, it's not with the rent"

She said I'd have to be tellin' her da
So we drove the Morris Minor to Cork
The ould fella said "You've got two choices
Castration or a one way ticket to New York"

So here I am up on Bainbridge Avenue
Still in one piece but glad I'm alive
Drinking dirty big glasses of porter
Playin' me jigs and me reels and me slides

Think of you, Bridie, whenever I'm sober
Which isn't too often, I have to confess
Take good care of the Morris Minor
Bad luck to your da
And give the baby a great big kiss
From his daddy in the Bronx

Oh Bridie, I'm still crazy about you, girl
Does the baby look like me, Bridie?
Has he have red hair and glasses?
Oh, Bridie, sell the Morris Minor
Come on out to America, girl

The pubs never close over here
I've got a palace up on Bainbridge Avenue
I've got the biggest bed in the world, girl
We can stay in it and make babies forever