Dublin Jack Of All Trades Irish lyrics and guitar chords
A traditional song recorded by The Johnstones and The Dubliners.
This song mentions 52 streets or places in Dublin. Other folk songs relating to
Dublin include the most famous of all the Molly Malone Song about a fish monger.
Oh[D] I am a roving sporting blade, they[A] call me Jack of all[D] Trades
I always place my chief delight in[A] courting pretty fair [D]maids.
So when in Dublin I ar[C]rived to[D] try for a situ[A]ation
I[D] always[A] heard them[D] say it[C] was the[D] pride of[A] all the[D] Nations.
cho:[D] I'm a roving jack of all trades
Of every[A] trade of all[D] trades
And if you wish to know my name
They[A] call me Jack of all[D] trades.
On George's Quay I first began and there became a porter
Me and my master soon fell out which cut my acquaintance shorter
In Sackville Street, a pastry cook; In James' Street, a baker
In Cook Street I did coffins make; In Eustace Street, a preacher.
In Baggot street I drove a cab and there was well requited
In Francis Street had lodging beds, to entertain all strangers
For Dublin is of high renown, or I am much mistaken
In Kevin Street, I do declare, sold butter, eggs and bacon.
In Golden Lane I sold old shoes: In Meath Street was a grinder
In Barrack Street I lost my wife. I'm glad I ne'er could find her.
In Mary's Lane, I've dyed old clothes, of which I've often boasted
In that noted place Exchequer Street, sold mutton ready roasted.
In Temple Bar, I dressed old hats; In Thomas Street, a sawyer
In Pill Lane, I sold the plate, in Green Street, an honest lawyer
In Plunkett Street I sold cast clothes; in Bride's Alley, a broker
In Charles Street I had a shop, sold shovel, tongs and poker.
In College Green a banker was, and in Smithfield, a drover
In Britain Street, a waiter and in George's Street, a glover
On Ormond Quay I sold old books; in King Street, a nailer
In Townsend Street, a carpenter; and in Ringsend, a sailor.
In Cole's Lane, a jobbing butcher; in Dane Street, a tailor
In Moore Street a chandler and on the Coombe, a weaver.
In Church Street, I sold old ropes- on Redmond's Hill a draper
In Mary Street, sold 'bacco pipes- in Bishop street a quaker.
In Peter Street, I was a quack: In Greek street, a grainer
On the Harbour, I did carry sacks; In Werburgh Street, a glazier.
In Mud Island, was a dairy boy, where I became a scooper
In Capel Street, a barber's clerk; In Abbey Street, a cooper.
In Liffey street had furniture with fleas and bugs I sold it
And at the Bank a big placard I often stood to hold it
In New Street I sold hay and straw, and in Spitalfields made bacon
In Fishamble Street was at the grand old trade of basketmaking.
In Summerhill a coachmaker; in Denzille Street a gilder
In Cork Street was a tanner, in Brunswick Street, a builder,
In High Street, I sold hosiery; In Patrick Street sold all blades
So if you wish to know my name, they call me Jack of all Trades.
Back to Irish Lyrics And Chords C-F
This song mentions 52 streets or places in Dublin. Other folk songs relating to
Dublin include the most famous of all the Molly Malone Song about a fish monger.
Oh[D] I am a roving sporting blade, they[A] call me Jack of all[D] Trades
I always place my chief delight in[A] courting pretty fair [D]maids.
So when in Dublin I ar[C]rived to[D] try for a situ[A]ation
I[D] always[A] heard them[D] say it[C] was the[D] pride of[A] all the[D] Nations.
cho:[D] I'm a roving jack of all trades
Of every[A] trade of all[D] trades
And if you wish to know my name
They[A] call me Jack of all[D] trades.
On George's Quay I first began and there became a porter
Me and my master soon fell out which cut my acquaintance shorter
In Sackville Street, a pastry cook; In James' Street, a baker
In Cook Street I did coffins make; In Eustace Street, a preacher.
In Baggot street I drove a cab and there was well requited
In Francis Street had lodging beds, to entertain all strangers
For Dublin is of high renown, or I am much mistaken
In Kevin Street, I do declare, sold butter, eggs and bacon.
In Golden Lane I sold old shoes: In Meath Street was a grinder
In Barrack Street I lost my wife. I'm glad I ne'er could find her.
In Mary's Lane, I've dyed old clothes, of which I've often boasted
In that noted place Exchequer Street, sold mutton ready roasted.
In Temple Bar, I dressed old hats; In Thomas Street, a sawyer
In Pill Lane, I sold the plate, in Green Street, an honest lawyer
In Plunkett Street I sold cast clothes; in Bride's Alley, a broker
In Charles Street I had a shop, sold shovel, tongs and poker.
In College Green a banker was, and in Smithfield, a drover
In Britain Street, a waiter and in George's Street, a glover
On Ormond Quay I sold old books; in King Street, a nailer
In Townsend Street, a carpenter; and in Ringsend, a sailor.
In Cole's Lane, a jobbing butcher; in Dane Street, a tailor
In Moore Street a chandler and on the Coombe, a weaver.
In Church Street, I sold old ropes- on Redmond's Hill a draper
In Mary Street, sold 'bacco pipes- in Bishop street a quaker.
In Peter Street, I was a quack: In Greek street, a grainer
On the Harbour, I did carry sacks; In Werburgh Street, a glazier.
In Mud Island, was a dairy boy, where I became a scooper
In Capel Street, a barber's clerk; In Abbey Street, a cooper.
In Liffey street had furniture with fleas and bugs I sold it
And at the Bank a big placard I often stood to hold it
In New Street I sold hay and straw, and in Spitalfields made bacon
In Fishamble Street was at the grand old trade of basketmaking.
In Summerhill a coachmaker; in Denzille Street a gilder
In Cork Street was a tanner, in Brunswick Street, a builder,
In High Street, I sold hosiery; In Patrick Street sold all blades
So if you wish to know my name, they call me Jack of all Trades.
Back to Irish Lyrics And Chords C-F
About The SongThis song is the ultimate Dublin résumé, written by a man who’s had more jobs than a politician has excuses. It’s the tale of a roving, charming, reckless Irish character who can turn his hand to anything… and usually make a mess of it.
He starts by telling us:
“I’m a roving sporting blade… Jack of all trades.”
Which is Irish for:
“I’ve been sacked from every profession known to mankind, and I’m still smiling.”
He lands in Dublin — “the pride of all the nations” — and immediately begins hopping from job to job like a flea on a griddle.
And sweet suffering saints, the list of trades!
In George’s Quay he’s a porter --
but he falls out with his boss faster than you can say “union dispute.”
Then he’s a pastry cook --
then a baker --
then a coffin maker --
then a preacher — which is a hell of a career swing.
He sells lodging beds in Francis Street --
old shoes in Golden Lane --
grinds blades in Meath Street --
loses a wife in Barrack Street (and is delighted to be rid of her).
He sells roasted mutton — dyes clothes — dresses hats — saws wood — sells silver — becomes an “honest lawyer” (which is already suspicious) — then sells cast-off clothes and fireplace tools.
Then he’s a banker in College Green --
and a drover in Smithfield --
and a waiter --
and a glover --
and a bookseller --
and a nailer --
and a carpenter --
and a sailor --
and you’re thinking:
“When does this man sleep?!”
He works as:
- butcher
- tailor
- candle maker
- weaver
- rope seller
- draper
- tobacco pipe seller
- quaker (that one’s especially good)
- quack doctor
- grainer
- glazier
- dairy boy
- barber’s clerk
- cooper
- furniture dealer
- sign-holder
- hay seller
- bacon-maker
- basket-maker
- coach-maker
- gilder
- tanner
- builder
- hosiery seller
- AND finally blade merchant.
It’s a song full of:
- cheeky swagger
- restless energy
- relentless unemployment
- and pure Dublin humour
In essence:
He’s the original gig-economy hero — centuries before the term existed.
And after all the madness, he sums himself up the only way an Irishman can:
“If you wish to know my name --
They call me Jack of all trades.”
Which is better than being master of none --
because at least he’s got great stories.
Guitar chords in G
Oh[G] I am a roving sporting blade, they[D] call me Jack of all[G] Trades
I always place my chief delight in[D] courting pretty fair [G]maids.
So when in Dublin I ar[F]rived to[G] try for a situ[D]ation
I[G] always[D] heard them[G] say it[F] was the[G] pride of[D] all the[G] Nations.
cho:[G] I'm a roving jack of all trades
Of every[D] trade of all[G] trades
And if you wish to know my name
They[D] call me Jack of all[G] trades.
Oh[G] I am a roving sporting blade, they[D] call me Jack of all[G] Trades
I always place my chief delight in[D] courting pretty fair [G]maids.
So when in Dublin I ar[F]rived to[G] try for a situ[D]ation
I[G] always[D] heard them[G] say it[F] was the[G] pride of[D] all the[G] Nations.
cho:[G] I'm a roving jack of all trades
Of every[D] trade of all[G] trades
And if you wish to know my name
They[D] call me Jack of all[G] trades.
