Ah, the day is done, and it's been too long
It's down to the pub where you belong
We know you're weary, tired and cold
We are the sons of Murphy
A net, the bait was off the tow
Two fine gentlemen, don't you know
We are deterred at the rake and bow
We are the sons of Murphy
Shaking bottles to the floor
Are you drinking your worries out the door
And the sons will shout, drinks will pour (hey)
This is what you're waiting for
Liam's the fiddler and Carlin sings
Of all triangles and fiery rings
You hail along for you know one thing
We are the sons of Murphy
15 pints, a Murphy's stout
Shots of Tullamore round the boat
You laugh and sing and dance and shout
With all the sons of Murphy
Shaking bottles to the floor
Are you drinking your worries out the door?
And the sons will shout, drinks will pour (hey)
This is what you're waiting for, hey!
That right
Ah, Jimmy's me name and if I'm right
Your antiquity's gone from sight
So now it's time to say goodnight
To all the sons of Murphy
So when the day's been tired and long
It's down to the pub where we belong
And that's the end of this poxy song
We are the sons of Murphy
Shaking bottles to the floor
Are you drinking your worries out the door?
And we know your friend's the drink no more (hey)
The sons will shout an' drinks will pour (hey)
And let's pour it straight, there has to be more
This is what you're waiting for, oh
