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Matty - Christy Moore

Written by：John Mulhearn

Matty went out on a frozen night

Making heading for the pub his shoulders hunched up tight

His head down on the railroad track

And his old cow Delia sad lowin' him back

He met with a dark and troubled man

As he passed him by called back at him

Hey Matty can't you see what's become of me

In this country of the blind

The house I've left is dead to me

To me rhyming and my poetry

All I've got is the beat of the stagger

Heading down the Curragh Line

But Matty passed on as quick as he could

He couldn't stand such a crooked man sober

All he wanted was the lights of the bar

The Nightingale and the Wild Rover

When he came in

They were sayin he was back

OH did Delia drive you out

With your spoutin' and your swearin'

We don't want to hear about Bunker Hayden

Maybe you'll sing us the girls of Kinkane

The fear an ti eyed him steadily

As he handed him a pint of porter

You must have seen the bishop's ghost tonight

To put the dry look back in your eye

But Matty would not be taken in

By their jibin' and their regalin'

He found himself a fresh blown crew

And fell in with their sportin' and their bailin'

As he was going home in that very same spot

He met his dark familiar

He seen him comin' back down the line

And he was bright and strange and fine

As he passed him by Matty threw out his arms

Trying to grab hold of his likeness

In the morning they found his frozen corpse

And the butt of Curragh Line

And at the wake

They were lashin' down

The drops of brandy

The old fashioned habit

In the church they were lashin' down pounds and fivers

So Matty would be fine in the old by and by