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frank harte - my son tim كلمات أغنية

[verse 1]
ah, my son tim was a bosun’s mate
he could blow the whistle but he never ran a rate
when the thoughts of his mother came into his head
you couldn’t understand one word he said
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum

[verse 2]
well, up comes tim without any legs
and in their place he had two wooden pegs
well, was it the walking across the sea
wore your two fine legs from the knees away?
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum

[verse 3]
“oh, were you drunk or were you blind
when you left your two fine legs behind?
how come mahone, that you were a silly youth
not to run away from the frenchman’s shoot?”
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum

[verse 4]
i was neither drunk nor neither blind
when i left my two fine legs behind
when up came a bl__dy great cannonball
shot away me sea_boots, oilskins and all
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum
[verse 5]
“ah, tim, me boy,” his mother cried
“them two fine legs were your mammy’s pride
them stumps of a tree wouldn’t do at all
you’d a right to run away from the big cannonball”
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum

[verse 6]
but now i’ll cross the raging main
to napoleon bonaparte and the queen of spain
and i’ll make them rue the time
that they shot away the legs of a child of mine
with your too_ri_ra, whack fol_the_da
whack fol_the_doodle, fol_the_di_dum

- frank harte

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