One evening a late, down to Crow Street I strayed
To a bar that's famous, for doin' the late trade
In vodka and whiskey, and red lemonade
Among company that's kindly and jovial
The man from Conallaigh, put me at me ease
And he sat me down easy beside a big blaze
He poured me a pint, and a half on that place
And another wee drop came from Oweny
For an hour and a half, I drank liquor so rare
I yet swear it was brewed by the gods, I declare
Out of nectars and honeys and lotuses fair
And it frеshly came over the bordеr
At half past eleven, I sadly prepared
To return to my lodgings, back where I was reared
I packed up my bags, I was filled with don't care
And then Oweny put in a big order
So the tiplers relaxed, and returned to their drinks
Rejoicing that now they need not feel the pinch
Peter Short finished off the last eighth of an inch;
He was suppin' since twenty past seven
And the music began, in an old fashioned style
You would travel to hear it, for manys a mile
We were laughin' and dancin' away all the while
I thought I was dead and in heaven
Oh, there were lads there from Newry, the Rock and the Hack
And some came from Belfast and never went back
And more lived convenient, the Carrolls and Blacks
And every man Jack swilling porter
Some came from Hill Street, and more from the Key
Some Crossmaglen patriots, tearing away
In a skene on the Boyne, they were all in array
And each one kept themselves in good order
Now a big dirty guard, was out on the street;
On passing the door, heard the music so sweet
He kicked up his heels, for to beat a retreat
To summon up two of his cronies
They quickly returned to the scene of the crime
And they called on the company, to fight or resign
Let them in cried Pat Murphy, we'd only be fine
On the night that the gards raided Oweny's
Said the Sergeant on enterin', Well what's this I see?
And why are so many of ye on the spree?
Could it be that at long last, the country is free?
Your conduct it is most nefarious
Oh the country's not free, then Oweny did say
If you want to drink porter like the rest you must pay
We'll stay here if we like, 'til the clear light of day
You know in don dark we're gregarious
So the gards went around, and they took all our names
And they struggled to spell, with their feeble wee brains
And theres some names in Irish, they made a great hames
And more they abandoned forever
To the roof of Mullhollands some quickly did climb
To gaze on a far, at the scene of the crime
To watch the old gards, make it good over time
As they gathered the rest all together
Then the divil he rose them, high up on the ramp
The gard and the Sergeant, the lad with the lamp
The dirty mean miserable, lousy lower tramps
From the bog that were dragged up so lowly
May they always see suffering, sorrow and pain
May their boots never fit, and their belts never strain
If they enter of such a grand evening again
As the night that the gards raided Oweny's
May their motors all stand, and their noses all run
And their necks now so red all turn green in the sun
And their teeth all turn black, and fall out one by one
May starvation it make them grow bony
May their arses all fester, and drop to their heels
And their last dyin' minutes, be tempered with squeals
May they dance forever, the fastest of reels
With the divil for raidin' poor Oweney's