I Knew Danny Farrell

I knew Danny Farrell when his football was a canWith his hand-me-downs and Welliers and his sandwichesOf branBut now that pavement peasant is a full grown bitterManWith all the trials and troubles of his travellingPeople's clanHe's a loser, a boozer, a me and you userA raider, a trader, a people police haterSo lonely and only, what you'd call a gurrierStill now, Danny Farrell, he's a manI knew Danny Farrell when he joined the National SchoolHe was lousy at the Gaelic, they'd call him amadán - aFoolHe was brilliant in the toss school by trading objectsIn the pawnBy the time he was an adult all his charming ways hadGoneI knew Danny Farrell when we queued up for the doleAnd he tried to hide the loss of pride that eats awayThe soulBut mending pots and kettles is a trade lost in thePast"There's no hand-out here for tinkers" was the answerWhen he askedHe's a loser, a boozer, a me and you userA raider, a trader, a people police haterSo lonely and only, what you'd call a gurrierStill now, Danny Farrell, he's a manI still know Danny Farrell, saw him just thereYesterdayTaking methylated spirits with some wino's on the quayOh, he's forty going on eighty, with his eyes of hopeBereftAnd he told me this for certain, there's not many of usLeftHe's a loser, a boozer, a me and you userA raider, a trader, a people police haterSo lonely and only, what you'd call a gurrierStill now, Danny Farrell, he's a man