Frank Warner Collection, #29, pp, 101-103. From the singing of
"Yankee" John Galusha of New York State. Collected 1940.
Nothing's Too Good For the Irish!
Nothing’s Too Good For the Irish
I'll tell to you a story that was told to me
A good old story, Gramachree.
When my mother she was dying, "My lad," says she,
"Nothin's too good for the Irish!"
When we come over, me and my brother Dan,
Says I, "We will do the best we can."
They made me a copper, and him an alderman
Nothin's too good for the Irish.
Chorus
Dutchmen were made for to carry coal and shovel snow,
Italians for organs, the Englishmen to mash,
Chinese for washing, the Japs for a juggling show,
Negroes to whitewash, the Jews were made for cash,
Cubans for cigarettes, the Portugese sail the seas,
Scotchmen for bakers, the French were made for style,
Rooshians for mining, Americans for liberty,
But men made for bosses are sons of Erin's isle!
Hip hip hurrah! Erin go bragh!
Nothin's too good for the Irish.
Dear Newfoundland have I got to leave you
To seek employment in a foreign land?
Forced from our nation by cruel taxation
I now must leave you dear Newfoundland.
Dear Newfoundland with your fisheries failing
Your sons and daughters must leave you each fall,
Forced by poverty and cruel taxation
To the shores of Boston, a home for all.
