I sleep beneath a bracken sheet
In sunlight or in rain,
The road dust burns my naked feet,
The sunrays sear my brain;
But children love my fiddle’s sound
And if a lad be straying,
His mother knows he may be found
Where old Mad Larry’s playing.
O fiddle, let us follow, follow,
Till we see my Eileen’s face,
Through the moonlight like a swallow
Off she flew to some far place.
O, did you ever love a lass?
I loved a lass one day,
And she would lie upon the grass
And sing while I would play.
She was a cruel, lovely thing,
Nor heart nor soul have I
For Eileen took them that soft spring
When she flew to the sky.