Hot Asphalt

You can talk about the concrete, and the boys who work

the train

The fellas in the hoppers, in the sun, and wind, and

rain

The boys who lay the blacktop, you ought to see them

belt

Workin' on the highway, laying hot asphalt

There were boys from Connemara, County Mayo, and

Kildare

The Sligo pincher kiddies, sure all Ireland was there.

We were working all around the clock, you should have

seen his belt

As we were racing up the highway, laying hot asphalt

We laid it in the hollows, and we laid it in the flats

And if it doesn't last forever, then I swear I'll eat

me hat

I've traveled up and down the world, and sure I never

felt

Any surface that was equal, to the hot asphalt

We spread in the summer, and we laid it nice hot

Two million yards or more of it, we had to roll the lot

The sun was blazing down; until I thought me back would

melt

Working on the Motor highway, laying hot asphalt

We laid it in the hollows, and we laid it in the flats

And if it doesn't last forever, then I swear I'll eat

me hat

I've traveled up and down the world, and sure I never

felt

Any surface that was equal, to the hot asphalt

When you're speeding in your motor car and tearing

through the shires

And the only thing you're hearing is the humming of

your tires

You'll be riding soft and easy, with a road as smooth

as felt

Then don't forget the boys, who lay the hot asphalt

We laid it in the hollows, and we laid it in the flats

And if it doesn't last forever, then I swear I'll eat

me hat

I've traveled up and down the world, and sure I never

felt

Any surface that was equal, to the hot asphalt