Harris, my old friend, good to see your face again.
More welcome, though, yon trap and that old mare:
For the wife is in a swoon, and I am all alone;
Harris fetch thy mare and take us home.

The wife and I came out for a quiet glass of stout
And a word or two with neighbors in the room;
But young Cleary he came in, as drunk and wild as sin,
And swore the wife would leave the place with him.

But the wife, as quick as thought, said "No, I'll bloody not!"
And struck the brute a blow about the head.
He raised his ugly paw, and he lashed her on the jaw,
And she fell unto the floor like she were dead.

Now Harris, well you know, I've never struck an angry blow;
Nor would I keep a friend who raised his hand.
I was a conshie in the war, crying "What the hell's this for?"
But I had to see his blood to be a man.

(pipe solo)

I grabbed him by his coat, spun him round and took his throat,
And beat his head upon the parlour door;
He dragged out an awful knife and he roared "I'll have your life!"
Then he stuck me and I fell unto the floor.

Now blood I was from neck to thigh, bloody murder in his eye
As he shouted out "I'll finish you for shore!"
But as the knife came down, I lashed out from the ground,
And the knife was in his breast, when he rolled o'er....

(pipe solo)

Now with the wife as cold as clay, I carried her away;
No hand was raised to help us through the door.
And I've brought her half a mile, but I've had to rest awhile;
And none of them I'll call a friend a' more.

For when the knife came down, I was helpless on the ground;
No neighbor stayed his hand, I was alone.
By God, I was a man, but now I cannot stand;
Please Harris fetch thy mare and take us home.

Oh Harris, fetch thy mare, and take us out of here;
In my nine and fifty years I've never known
That to call myself a man for my loved one I must stand, now
Harris fetch thy mare and take us home.

(pipe solo)