Torchy Doyle - The Elders

was looking at some old photographs

Came across an old one

With my Granddad sitting on a horse and cart

I remember stories wild so wild they would always last

It was said he was a bruiser

Drinking barley from the glass

He was a hardy fighting drinking man

Working every bone till it breaks

No Dublin man could ever shake his hand

Breaking all the glass in the window pane

He could feel no more

Behind that rugged mask this Man

He loved the windy sand and shore

Tis time to take him home

Regrets he had a few if none

Working in the mines driving trucks through the dirt

On the cliffs no man could stand

Torchy Doyle was the name

They gave this long and lanky Irish Man

He was feared yet loved by most

Only one could understand

He was a hardy fighting drinking man

Working every bone till it breaks

No Dublin man could ever shake his hand

Breaking all the glass in the window pane

He could feel no more

Behind that rugged mask this Man

He loved the windy sand and shore

Tis time to take him home

His nose he broke so many times

All the fights and the battles in the fields

In the bed he was so kind

Buy a jar at the end they smile in case he change his mind

Torchy Doyle you are the man

Only one could understand

He was a hardy fighting drinking man

Working every bone till it breaks

No Dublin man could ever shake his hand

Breaking all the glass in the window pane

He could feel no more

Behind that rugged mask this Man

He loved the windy sand and shore

Tis time to take him home

He was a hardy fighting drinking man

Working every bone till it breaks

No Dublin man could ever shake his hand

Breaking all the glass in the window pane

He could feel no more

Behind that rugged mask this Man

He loved the windy sand and shore

Tis time to take him home