There is a hero in this place, sure him you all know well.
He is a jolly sporter with a newly clapped-out head.
For one half of the year sure he generally goes mad,
And for the other half of the year he rolls inside in bed.

You can see him every day now, sure fishing in the Flag.
And while he is not fishing he’s around the country mad.
For when he is returning sure he’s faffin' like a dog
And he’s buzzing like an aeroplane he wags his weathered gob.

Oh it was on one of his rambles to Ennistymon he did go.
And into Mrs Murphy’s who you know also.
He called for Leko Flinty, and soon began to roar.
And still he got a kick behind and was put outside the door.

And it was when he was returning home to McMahon’s he did go.
With all the young ladies there, he though he’d get a show.
They asked him did they know him, or could trace his pedigree;
On what are the knowledge of what famous blood can be.

"One of Pat’s own compositions about a local Kilshanny man."
Jim Carroll