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lirik lagu hot ashfelt - frank harte

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[verse 1]
ah, good evening all me jolly lads i’m glad to find you well
and if you’ll kindly pay attention now a story i will tell
for i’ve got a situation and begorrah and begob
i can whisper i’ve a weekly wage of nineteen bob
it’s twelve months come october since i left me native home
after helping in k!llarney boys to pull the harvest down
ah, but now i wear a geansaí and around me waist a belt
i am the gaffer of the squad that’s making the hot ashfelt

[chorus]
and we laid it in the hollows and we laid it on the flat
and if it doesn’t last forever, sure, i swear i’ll eat my hat
now, i’ve wandered up and down the world, but i have never felt
any surface that was equal to the hot ashfelt

[verse 2]
well, the other night a copper comes and he says to me, “mcguire
would you kindly let me light me pipe down at your boiler fire?”
well he planks himself in front of me, with his hobnails on the plate
“here”, said i, “my decent man you better go and mind your beat.”
he ups and yells, “i’m onto you, i’m up to all yer pranks
don’t i know you for a traitor from the tipperary ranks?”
boys, i hit straight from the shoulder and i gave him such a belt
that i knocked him into the boiler full of hot ashfelt
[verse 3]
well, we quickly pulled him out again and we threw him in the tub
and with soap and warm water we began to rub and scrub
ah, but the divil, the thing had hardened, it turned him hard as stone
and with every other rub, now, you could hear the copper moan
“i’m thinking”, says o’reilly “that he’s looking like old nick
and burn me if i’m not inclined for to cleave him with me pick”
“ah”, says i, “it might be easier to leave him til he melts
and to stir him nice and easy in the hot ashfelt.”

[chorus]
and we laid it in the hollows and we laid it on the flat
and if it doesn’t last forever, sure, i swear i’ll eat my hat
now, i’ve wandered up and down the world, but i have never felt
any surface that was equal to the hot ashfelt

[verse 4]
you may talk about your soldiers and your sailors and the rest
your shoemakers and your tailors but we please the ladies best
for the only ones who really know how their flinty hearts to melt
are the boys around the boiler making the hot ashfelt
but with rubbing and with scrubbing, sure, i caught my death of cold
and for scientific purposes my body it was sold
in the kelvingrove museum, me boys, i’m hanging in my pelt
as a monument to irish laying the hot ashfelt
[chorus]
and we laid it in the hollows and we laid it on the flat
and if it doesn’t last forever, sure, i swear i’ll eat my hat
now, i’ve wandered up and down the world, but i have never felt
any surface that was equal to the hot ashfelt


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