47 Black - Funky Ceã­Lã­ (Bridie's Song) Lyrics

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Bridie was teachin' out in Carysfort

I was workin' in the bank

2 paycheques every Friday

And a Morris Minor out the back

But I was mad for jigs and reels

Drinkin' dirty big pints of stout

When the Bank of Ireland gave me the boot

They said "Don't let the door hit your arse on the way out."

Fiddlee diddlee deidely dee

I was born to play the funky ceílí

Over the seas and far away, off to Ameri-kay

Fiddlee diddlee deidely dee

Where the wild, wild women were waitin' for me

Think of me Bridie whenever you see me there on your MTV

I love you, a cushla, but how could I be

Without me punky funky ceílí

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Bridie broke down and started to bawl

When I told her about me divorce from the bank

She said "I've got news of me own, a stor,

I'm 2 months late, it's not with the rent"

She said I'd have to be tellin' her Da

So we drove the Morris Minor to Cork

The ould fella said "You've got two choices,

Castration, or a one way ticket to New York!"

So here I am up on Bainbridge Avenue

Still in one piece but glad I'm alive

Drinkin' dirty big glasses of porter

Playin' me jigs and me reels and me slides

Think of you, Bridie, whenever I'm sober

Which isn't too often, I have to confess

Take good care of the Morris Minor

Bad luck to your Da

And give the baby a great big kiss....

From his Daddy in the Bronx

Oh Bridie, I'm still crazy about you, girl

Does the baby look like me, Bridie?

Has he got red hair and glasses?

Oh, Bridie, sell the Morris Minor

Come on out to America, girl

The pubs never close over here

I've got a palace up on Bainbridge Avenue

I've got the biggest bed in the world, girl,

We can stay in it and make babies forever....

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