作词 : OBeirne, Stewart, Watkins
When I was a young apprentice and less than compos mentis 
I took leave of all my senses with a maid 
I fell in love. 
Her ringlets so entwined me 
Aphrodite's smile did blind me 
Cupid's arrow struck behind me and her father owned a pub. 
It was there 
I met my nemesis in her father's licensed premises 
Like the Seraphim of 
Genesis sat 
Mary Anne 
Maguire. Arrayed in fine apparel astride a porter barrel 
She looked the kind of girl that would fill you with desire. 
All the turtle doves were cooing as 
I took to my wooing 
Her Loveliness pursuing in the springtime of that year. 
But she thought 
I should be older and more gallant and much bolder 
In the uniform of a soldier 'tis then she'd hold me dear. 
In extremis and euphoria 
I joined with 
Queen Victoria 
For a spell of death or gloria a-fighting with the 
Boers. To the wind 
I threw all caution 
I'll return with fame and fortune 
And together make a portion of matrimony's chores. 
On the gravestone of her mother she swore she loved no other 
But I was to soon discover that she played me for a berk. 
For lady-luck had beached me and intelligence had reached me 
Whilst I'd been overseas she had married to a 
Turk. Well me, 
I then deserted for to find the girl who'd flirted 
Back to Ireland 
I reverted for my jealously was roused. 
In Maguire's 
Pub in Derry 
I found him making merry 
With his arms around my 
Mary as together they caroused. 
So I took my time and waited until his thirst was sated 
And home he navigated through the streets of 
Derry town. 
At his lodgins he stood knocking and whilst they were unlocking 
I put a stone into a stocking on his head 
I brought it down. '
Twas then the night's serenity was rent with loud obscenity 
And Ottoman profanity that 
I couldn't understand. 
With an oath he made to grab me with full intent to stab me 
But as he tried to kebab me 
I was screaming up the strand. 
All around the town's perimeter he chased me with his scimitar 
A powerful passion limiter to an errant in his pride. 
Through the waterside he chased me to the 
Bridge of 
Foyle he raced me 
And at Derry 
Quay he faced me so 
I jumped into the tide. 
Sure bravery's no virtue when some heathen's trying to hurt you 
And all noble thoughts desert you when you see his curly knife. 
For there's many things worth trying for and occasionally worth lying for 
But there's bugger-all worth dying for so 
I'll stick to the soldier's life.