Oh I am a [bad word] born Dublin man
                         From the Liffey side I hail
            And the motte says I'm the quarest one
                      This side of Mountjoy jail

                                  [bad word]   For I love the craic and the porter black
                             In those pubs of high renown
             There is not a place in the whole wide world
                     Like dear old Dublin town

Verse 2: When I was young and in my prime
  Oh my banjo I would play
  All around in the pubs in the Liberties
  From noon until the break of day
 [bad word] 

Verse 3: On Friday night it's my delight
  When my weekly toil is done
  The motte and me go on the town
  To sing and dance and have some fun
 [bad word] 

Verse 4: Now a Dublin man is staunch and [bad word]   He's hearty and he's hail
  He's a real [bad word] blue like me and you
  If you need him he won't fail