Collection of Irish Song Lyrics
McGraths
Copyright: 2011
Imagine in this day & age An Irish pub that's dry But it would never happen Too many men would cry Here's a similar situation The facts I'll tell you true At McGrath's pub up in Killington Could make you equally as blue Ski or hike the trails by day At night an Irish band Craic ceol some Irish stew And Guinness in your hand But the distributor in the Nutmeg state Refused to send a truck 'You'll get Guinness in Connecitcut And that's the end of that!' Kyran then would have to drive And make a weekly jaunt To pick up all that Guinness To give the customers what they want The distribution man would laugh And wouldn't change his stance Knowing that McGraths sells more Than the whole state of Vermont It was getting old this weekly trek In all kinds of inclement weather What happened next some would say Was born of an Irish temper Kyran sat down with a telephone A right determined man 'If you will not be helping me Give me someone else who can!' The telephone tree was in full bloom As the hours lingered on 'Then give me someone higher up!' He screamed right thru the horn the Italian distribution man in Connecticut had a war when Kyran reached the desk Of Arthur Guinness number four We sell Guinness by the barrel And here Sir is my plight your Connecticut man won't send a truck you know it isn't right so Arthur made a single call With marching orders that's a fact 'You'll be willingly going to Killington And that's the end of that! ' Now Murray keeps the flame alive While Okie greets the masses Bob and Owen tend the bar By topping off your glasses Anna serves the whole damn room With Patrick's Irish stew But no one's driving to Connecticut That much I Know is true
