Ewan MacColl — Morrissey and the Russian Sailor

Come all you gallant Irishmen, wherever that you be I hope you'll pay attention and listen unto me I'll sing about a battle that took place the other day Between a Russian sailor and gallant Morrissey T'was in Tierra Del Fuego in South America The Russian challenged Morrissey these words to him did say I hear you are a fighting man you wear the belt I see Indeed I wish you would consent to have a round with me Then out spoke brave Morrissey with heart both brave and true I am a valiant Irishman that nevеr was subdued For I can beat the Yankee, thе Saxon, Bull or Bear In honour of old Paddy's land, I'll still the laurels wear They shook hands and walked around the ring commencing then to fight It filled each Irish heart with joy to behold the sight The Russian he floored Morrissey up to the eleventh round With Yankee, Russian, Saxon cheers the valley did resound The Irish offered four to one that day upon the grass No sooner said than taken up and down they laid their cash They battled away without delay up to the twenty-second round When Morrissey received a blow which brought him to the ground Up to the thirty-seventh round 'twas fall and fall about Which made the foreign tyrant for to keep a sharp look out The Russian called his seconds to pour a glass of wine Our Irish hero smiled and said this battle will be mine The thirty-eighth round decided all, the Russian felt as smart As Morrissey with a dreadful blow struck him on the heart The doctor, he was called in to open up a vein Her said "it is quite useless, he will never fight again" Now to hear the shouts of the Irishman, it grieved the Yankee sore For to see that eighteen stone man whose height was 6 foot four They drank a health to [?] and made the taverns roar In honor of bold Morrissey and the shamrock belt he wore