Lyrics Christy Moore

Christy Moore

Casey

If it's drink you want and plenty of feeding

And you like the bed as well

Grab the wife, throw the kids in the Datsun

Make for Inch and the Strand hotel

If talk of turf drives you crazy

And you can't face a bale of hay

Make for Foley's work the topshelf talk puck, pints and the GAA

Casey, Casey you're the devil

When you get behind the wheel

It was a sad day for the Kerry sheepdogs

When your Firestones they did feel

Oh the low road goes from Killorglin all the way down to Annascaul

When Casey came to guide us he never used his brakes at all

A trail of sheepdogs littered Kerry from Killorglin to Macroom

He might have been all soul's salvation but he also was the sheep dog's doom

From the holy dioceses of Galway Eamonn went to London town

Where the traffic cops out on their duty they overtook and flagged him down

As he was tearing after luncheon around the city like a loon

Regardless to his rank and station they forced him to blow up their auld balloon

Geographically he was in limbo faced with justice true and true

No obligations were accepted he was rightly up the flue

No bolt of lightning from the heaven could remove the boys in blue

Well he wished the force that had worked at Cana would turn his wine into water too

When Ronnie Reagan came to Ireland all the wankers made a great furore

But Eamonn remembered bishop Romero said he'd even up the score

Casey Casey said "God willin' I'll meet Reagan on the road

Niall O'Brien will hear his confessions when I've taught him the Green Cross Code"

Casey Casey you're the right man to teach them Yankees right from wrong

If it wasn't for yourself and Reagan there wouldn't be much to Martin Egan's song