[A]O'Sullivan John to the[Em] road you're gone,far[D] away from your native[A] land,
You've gon with the[G] tinker's[Em] daughter far[A] along the road to[Em] roam,
O'[A]Sullivan[G] John you[Em] wont stick it long till your[D] belly will[A] soon be[E] slack,
As you[A] roam the road with a[Em] mighty loan,and a[D] tool box on your[A] back.
I met Katie Coffee with her neat baby,behind on her back strapped on,
She'd an old ash plant in her hand to drive the donkey along,
Enquiring at every farmers house,as along the road she passed,
And it's where would you get an old pot to mend,and where would she get an ass.
There's a hairy ass fair in the County Clare in a place they call Spancil Hill,
Where my brother James got a wrap of a haimes,and poor Paddy they tried to kill,
They loaded him up in an old ass and cart while Kate and big Mary looked on,
Ah,bad luck to the day that I went away,to join with the tinkers band.