The Jolly Farmer Lyrics By Seamus Moore And Brendan Shine
Both Seamus Moore and accordion player Brendan Shine recorded this song. The youtube video is the version by the J.C.B. Man Seamus.
I am a jolly farmer I've been farming all me life
I live on 40 acres with me parents and me wife
We've got two delightful children the eldest he is four
We're all content and happy and we ask for little more.
But me cousins up in Dublin they won't leave us alone
On the telly and the radio you can dear the people moan
They want to tax the farmers and some of them declares
That the farmers down the country are a bunch of millionaires
Oh it's grand to be a farmer ' till the hens refuse to lay
And the rains that fall in summer time destroys your fields of hay
When the course of brucellosis it's your lovely heard of cows
And the quare desease you can't pronounce makes bacon of your sows.
With prices fluctuation and there's nothing garenteed
Sure the farmer has his worries when he's many mouths to feed
So come all ye loyal Dublin folks the farmer is your friend
Don't criticise him further or you'll drive him 'round the bend.
The farmer grows potatoes and saves them from the blight
Then he drives them up to Dublin and he's driving half the night
His pockets may be paultry but he pays for all his trips
But he's happy for the city folks they can have their fish and chips.
The pigeons eat his cabbage and the crows devour his wheet
There's a levy on his creamery and another on his Beet
When he gets a spell of sunshine his grass may turn brown
And the Carrot fly gets busy on his carrots '''''
My cousin up in Dublin has a job from 9 'till 5
But the poor old farmer's working every hour he's alive
When the cows require a midwife or the turkey's start to fight
He has to don his overalls in the middle of the night.
Of Dublin can be Heaven when you strool in Stephen's Green
But the good and bad are everywhere and there's plenty in between
We need each other badly if we're hoping to survive
So lets learn to live together and thank God we're all alive.
Oh it's grand to be a farmer ' till the hens refuse to lay
And the rains that fall in summer time destroys your fields of hay
When the course of brucellosis it's your lovely heard of cows
And the quare disease you can't pronounce makes bacon of your sows.
With prices fluctuation and there's nothing guaranteed
Sure the farmer has his worries when he's many mouths to feed
So come all ye loyal Dublin folks the farmer is your friend
Don't criticise him further or you'll drive him 'round the bend.
I am a jolly farmer I've been farming all me life
I live on 40 acres with me parents and me wife
We've got two delightful children the eldest he is four
We're all content and happy and we ask for little more.
But me cousins up in Dublin they won't leave us alone
On the telly and the radio you can dear the people moan
They want to tax the farmers and some of them declares
That the farmers down the country are a bunch of millionaires
Oh it's grand to be a farmer ' till the hens refuse to lay
And the rains that fall in summer time destroys your fields of hay
When the course of brucellosis it's your lovely heard of cows
And the quare desease you can't pronounce makes bacon of your sows.
With prices fluctuation and there's nothing garenteed
Sure the farmer has his worries when he's many mouths to feed
So come all ye loyal Dublin folks the farmer is your friend
Don't criticise him further or you'll drive him 'round the bend.
The farmer grows potatoes and saves them from the blight
Then he drives them up to Dublin and he's driving half the night
His pockets may be paultry but he pays for all his trips
But he's happy for the city folks they can have their fish and chips.
The pigeons eat his cabbage and the crows devour his wheet
There's a levy on his creamery and another on his Beet
When he gets a spell of sunshine his grass may turn brown
And the Carrot fly gets busy on his carrots '''''
My cousin up in Dublin has a job from 9 'till 5
But the poor old farmer's working every hour he's alive
When the cows require a midwife or the turkey's start to fight
He has to don his overalls in the middle of the night.
Of Dublin can be Heaven when you strool in Stephen's Green
But the good and bad are everywhere and there's plenty in between
We need each other badly if we're hoping to survive
So lets learn to live together and thank God we're all alive.
Oh it's grand to be a farmer ' till the hens refuse to lay
And the rains that fall in summer time destroys your fields of hay
When the course of brucellosis it's your lovely heard of cows
And the quare disease you can't pronounce makes bacon of your sows.
With prices fluctuation and there's nothing guaranteed
Sure the farmer has his worries when he's many mouths to feed
So come all ye loyal Dublin folks the farmer is your friend
Don't criticise him further or you'll drive him 'round the bend.
