Oh he doesn't smell like Irish Spring
And he never taught me anything
But still I slap my chest and sing of my [bad word] irish dad
Oh his face looks like a railroad map
And he never shut his friggin trap
But all the ladies catch The Clap
From your [bad word] irish dad.

Ask-a Henesey, Tenesey, Morrison, Shortison, Reedman [bad word] they'll tell you the same.
McNulty, Morooney, McCodder and Clooney all feel the same mixture of pride and of shame
Hinnagin, Hannagan, Harry and Flannigan look to the ground when their dad passes by.
Habberty, Rabberty, Joyson, O'Labberty fight for his honor and then start to cry!

 [bad word] part try to get a dog and a sheep to dance together)

Oh we Irish lads are all in firm
And our moods infect us like a germ
cause we're all the spot of a pickled old sperm...
And we don't tan well either.
From your [bad word] Irish dad.