Hey, Johnny McGory, tell me, where's your glory gone I saw you up in the monto with your old leg gone A dirty Flanders bullets, sure it left you half a man Hey, Johnny McGory, where's your old leg gone
Up to Sally gardens, around the back of the pipes Messing with the liberty bells a man could loose his stripes Tradin' on your troubles and grabbin' every chance To show the randy old ones all the things you learned in France
Up to Gloucester diamonds, red Biddy on your mind Not a tosser in your pocket, not a soul you could remind The Lord knows you're a darlin', you never did give in Your neck's as hard as concrete and your laugh's a mortal sin
Monday in the Iveagh, Tuesday in the drags Wednesday's walking and wounded, Thursday soldier your bags Friday's heroes on the touch and Saturday's lost again But the Sunday's good intentions, sure you start the week againTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
