Music & Lyrics by Chris Murphy
I knew a maid named Mary; 'twas the fairest in the land
Shaggin' her was all upon me mind
But she wouldn't give herself away until she gave her hand
And me, I'm just not the marrying kind
No me, I'm just not the marrying kind
But I charmed her with me bright blue eyes
And sold her on me grin
I fed her some malarky 'bout a ring
I laid her down, we fooled around
Forget the white wedding gown
Nor did Mary ever get a ring
The only thing I gave her was a fling...
I'm a con man, a con man, a Lepra-Con Man
I've sold many a bridge throughout me days
No I'll never rob a thing from you; you'll give it all away
I'm a con man, a con man, a Lepra-Con Man (2x)
A week or two had passed and I'd forgotten 'bout the fling
When then I hear a rappin' at me door
It's Mary's father Old Man Potter raging bloody hell
Screaming out 'I'll kill ya man for sure!'
'You turned me only daughter to a whore!'
Well there was no place to run and hide
I had only me wits
What happened next was something to behold
I says 'I'm caught, and tell ya what;
I shagged your pretty daughter, but
I'll give to you me hidden pot of gold!'
And now I had him under my control
Early the next morning; go heading out the door
All for to find the fabled pot of gold
Well he had in hand tobacco and was slugging from his whiskey can
Ay the grieving father seemed consoled
So further down the cobblestone we strolled
Well I led him to a clover patch and said 'Go have a look -
Inside the nook snug tight beside the creek...'
The drunken mick fell for me trick
I wapped him with a shillelagh stick
And left him lying there without a thing
Dancing a jig away awhile I sing...
© 2013 Chris Murphy