Transcription
Come on in. Come on in. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you haven't a chance. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you got to get up and dance. Heads are wiggling, feet are jiggling, making the rafters ring. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you got to get up and sing to the light. If you're feeling low, you'll soon be feeling high. Oh, it's wonderful Irish music and it's never flat or sharp. When Patty McGinty plays the harp. Monday night, it's Flanigans. Tuesday night it's Branigans. Wednesday night it's Hanigans doing the best he can. Thursday, Friday, Saturday. How they love to hear him play. Every night is car's day. Oh, what a busy man. The girls from near and far away. They come to hear McGinty play. He smiles at them and rides away. They start to shout with glee. They like his hair. They like his style, his Irish man so be. And every girl within a mile says, "Mind is the man for me. Come on ye. Come on ye. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you haven't half a chance. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you got to get up and dance. Heads are wiggling, feet are jiggling, making the rafters ring. When Patty McGinty plays the harp, you got to get up and sing to the L to the light. If you're feeling low, you'll soon be feeling high. Oh, it's wonderful Irish music and it's never flat or sharp. When Patty begins, she flees the house.