Fol di dol fol di fol day
Fol di dol rol di dol ad dy
Fol di dol rol di dol day
Fol di dol rol di dol ad dy
In Glendalough lived an old saint
Renowned for his learning and piety.
His manners was curious and quaint
And he looked upon girls with disparity.
He was fond of readin' a book,
When he could get one to his wishes.
He was fond of castin' his hook
In among the young fishes.
Well one evenin' he landed a trout.
He landed a fine big trout, sir.
When Kathleen from over the way,
Came to see what the old monk was about, sir.
"Well get out o' me way" said the saint,
For I am a man of great piety.
And me good manners I wouldn't taint,
Not by mixing with female society.
Ah, but Kitty she wouldn't give in.
And when he got home to his rockery,
He found she was seated therein
A-polishin' up his old crockery.
Well he gave the poor creature a shake,
And I wish that a Garda had caught him.
For he threw her right into the lake,
And, be Jaysus, she sank to the bottom.
