"Out on the road, it's dark and it's cold,"
Said my mother as she passed by
"You'll never stick it long enough
You're a fool to even try
You've gone off with a band of men, all addicts, skites, and bums
So you think you will enjoy your life in the tenancy and the slums"

Tur ra la, tu ra la, tu ra la, li
Out on the road is where your Uncle died
Tur ra la, tu ra la, tu ra la, li
I have no time for you on the road

"Playing music ain't no way to live
It's hungry, cold, and slack
And if you walk out that door my Son,
Well, you won't be coming back"

But it's down the pub, all my friends are there
And there's no place that I'd rather be
So, you think this life will engulf me?
Well I'll tell you we'll just wait and see

So I kissed my tearful Father at the door and I left him there
With five bottles of Bushmill's and two on my chair
We set out for the county Clare

And it's Ceili's jigs and booze in Killrush
Dooneed can be quite a thrill,
And I won't come back 'till I've made my name,
Until I have had my fill