Jack Dempsey

Well my father was a drunkard
 And my stepma was a nag
 And life in the streets of Dublin
 Was nothing about to brag
 With the work lines getting longer
 And hunger on the breeze
 Met a carney from Killarney
 And he sang these words to me
 Hey ho diddle-ee dee
 If it's free you want to be
 Jump the ship to Boston
 Fight a Yankee in the ring
 Well I grew up as a fighter
 My teacher was the streets
 Where the taste of blood in your mouth
 Was never out of reach
 These fists were made of iron
 But never made to steal
 So I followed the words of a carney
 And to Boston I did sail
 So I slept unders
 And jumped a train or three
 An honest day's work
 Won't take a Mick like me
 I surely couldn't dance
 And hell if I could sing
 But I'd pistol whip a Yankee
 If you just put me in the ring
 The brawlin' turned to fightin'
 And the bruises turned to gold
 The hunger turned to pride
 As the wins began to roll
 And I think about the carney
 Who sang the distant chord
 If you go and fight the Yankees
 You'll be champion of the world!