Jack Andy
My name is Jack Andy of no fixed abode
And my home is the sky and the wide open road
Since I was evicted and I lost all I had
I travel this county in good times and bad
I was frozen and starving and sad was my plight
When I came to Dungarvan one cold winters night
I went into an alehouse that’s known as John Keane’s
For a cruiscin of porter and a feed of crubeens
When the time came to pay for the food that I ate
I had nout in my pockets and less on my plate
I ran from the table and made for the door
For you learn to survive when you’re hungry and poor
I skipped over the causeway with the law on my trail
But my belly was full of fine bacon and ale
I went into a haybarn and slept like a log
And next morning I traveled o’er the mountain and bog
I’ve slept in out-houses in Ring and Ardmore
I drank all the way from Kilmac to Lismore
I make for Clonea when the weather is good
In the winter I shelter in Colligan wood
But a rambler’s a rambler come hail, rain or snow
And life can be hard when you’ve no place to go
So if on the road you see my withered frame
Would you spare us a copper, Jack Andy’s the name
