came great musicians and balladeers.
There was a special one, a red haired Minstrel Boy
And when he passed away,
a city mourned its favourite son.
All around the markets and down the quays
The sad news spread to The Liberties.
The Minstrel Boy is gone, he’ll sing no more
And Luke, somehow we know,
we’ll never see your like again.
He liked to laugh and sing, he loved a jar,
and his songs rang out in many city bars.
I walked by the old canal,
near which he used to live
down Raglan Road. I’m sad,
as he’d so much left to give.
Now the show is over, the curtain’s down,
a flame no longer burns in Dublin town.
While the Liffey flows beneath the Halfpenny Bridge,
you’ll be remembered, Luke,
for all your songs and all you did.