The Town of Ballybay

In the town of Ballybay, there was a lassie dwelling I knew her very well and her story's well worth telling Her father kept a still and he was a good distiller But when she took to the drink, well the devil wouldn't fill her Ring-a-ding-a-dong, ring-a-ding-a-daddy-o Ring-a-ding-a-dong, whack fol the daddy o She had a wooden leg that was hollow down the middle She used to tie a string on it and play it like a fiddle She fiddled in the hall and she fiddled in the alleyway She didn't give a damn, for she had to fiddle anyway She said she couldn't dance, unless she had her wellies on But when she had them on, she could dance as well as anyone She wouldn't go to bed, unless she had her shimmy on But when she had it on, she would go as quick as anyone She had lovers by the score, every Tom and Dick and Harry She was courted night and day, but still she wouldn't marry But then she fell in love with a fellow with a stammer When he tried to run away, well she hit him with a hammer She had children up the stairs, she had children by the byre And another ten or twelve, sitting roaring by the fire She fed them on potatoes and on soup she made with nettles And lumps of hairy bacon that she boiled up in the kettle She led a sheltered life, eating porridge and black pudding And she terrorized her man, until he died quite sudden And when her husband died, well she wasn't very sorry She rolled him in a bag and she threw him in a quarry