Pat Malloy - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
PAT MALLOY 
At sixteen years of age I was My mother's fair-haired boy; She kept a little huckster shop, Her name it was Malloy; "I've fourteen children, Pat," says she, "Which heaven to me has sent, But children ain't like pigs, you know-They can't pay the rent!" She gave me every shilling There was in the till,-And kissed me fifty times or more, As if she'd never get her fill; "Oh, heaven bless you, Pat," said she, "And don't forget, my boy, That ould Ireland is your country, And your name is Pat Malloy! 
Oh, England is a purty place, Of gold there is no lack-I trudged from York to London, Wiu me scythe upon me back; The English girls are beautiful, Their loves I don't decline, The eating and the drinking, too, Are beautiful and fine; But in a corner of me heart, Which nobody can see, Two eyes of Irish blue Are "always peeping out at me! Oh, Molly, darlin', never fear, I'm still your own dear boy-Ould Ireland is me country. And me name is Pat Malloy. 
From Ireland to America, Across the seas I roam. And every shilling that I got, Ah, sure I sent it home; Me mother couldn't write, but, oh. There came from Father Boyce: "Oh, heaven bless you, Pat," says she-I hear me mother s voice! But now I'm going home again, As poor as I began, To make a happy girl of Moll, And sure I think I can; Me pockets they are empty, But me heart is filled with joy. For ould Ireland is me country, And me name is Pat Malloy.