Pat Of Mullingar - song lyrics 
American Old-time song lyrics from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
PAT OF MULLINGAR Sung by Harry Richmond. 
They may talk of Flying Childers, And the speed of Harkaway, Till the fancy it bewilders, As you list to what they say; But for real bone and beauty Though, to travel near and far, The fattest mare you'll find, belongs To Pat of Mullingar. 
Chorus. 
She can trot along, jog along, Drag a jaunting-car; No day's too long, when set along With Pat of Mullingar. 
She was bred in Connemara, And brought up at Castlemaine; She won cups at the Currah, The finest baste on all the plain I All countries And conveyances She has been buckled to; She lost an eye at Limerick, And an ear at Waterloo.-Chorus. 
If a friend you wish to find, sir, I'll go wherever you want; I'll drive you out of your mind, sir, Or a little way beyont, Like an arrow through the air, If you'll 6tep upon the car, You'll ride behind the little ma:e Of Pat of Mullingar.-Chorus. 
To Dallymount or Kingston, If the place you wish to see, I'll drive you to the Strawberry beds. It's all the same to me; To Dounybrook, whose ancient fair Is famed for love And war; Or if you have the time to spare, We'll go to Mullingar. - Chorus. 
When on the road we're going, The other carmen try (Without the darling knowing), To pass her on the sly; Her one ear poiuts up to the sky. She tucks her haunches in; Then shows the lads how she can fly, As I sit still and grin!- Chorus. 
Then, should yez want a car, 6irs, I hope you'll not forget Poor Pat of Mullingar, sirs, 
And his darliu' little pet; She's as gentle as the dove, sirs, Her speed you can't deuy; And there's no blind side about her, Though she ouly has one eye. - Chorus.