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The words were written by D. K. Gavan, "The Galway Poet", for the English music hall performer Harry Clifton (1832–1872), who popularized the song
We prefer the Clancy Brothers version. One of the more difficult songs to sing, primarily because you need to work out where to breathe. We prefer the Clancy Brothers version.

    Rocky Road to Dublin

    by trad


    In the merry month of June, from me home I started
    Left the girls of Tuam, nearly broken hearted
    Sa- luted father dear, kissed me darling mother
    Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother
    Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born
    With my stout blackthorn to banish ghosts and goblins
    A brand new pair of brogues, rattlin’ o’er the bogs
    And frightening all the dogs on the Rocky road to Dublin

    ( Chorus
    One-two-three-four-five
    Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
    And all the way to Dublin
    Whack fol-lol-dee ra )

    Well in Mullingar that night, I rested limbs so weary
    Started by daylight next morning blithe and early
    Took a drop of the “pure” to keep me heart from sinking
    That’s the paddy’s cure whenever he’s on for drinking
    To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while
    At me curious style ‘twould set your heart a-bubbling
    Asked if was I hired, wages I required
    Till I was nearly tired of the rocky road to Dublin

    Chorus

    Well in Dublin next arrived I thought it such a pity
    To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city
    So then I took a stroll all among the quality
    Bundle it was stole all in a neat locality
    Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind
    No bundle could I find upon my stick a-wobbling
    Enquiring for the rogue, said me Connaught brogue
    Wasn’t much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin

    Chorus

    Well, from there I got away, me spirits never failing
    Landed on the quay just as the ship was sailing
    The captain at me roared, said that no room had he
    When I jumped aboard ,a cabin found for Paddy
    Down among the pigs, played some funny rigs
    Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling
    When off Holyhead, wished meself was dead
    Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin

    Chorus

    Well, the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed
    Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it
    Blood began to boil, temper I was losing
    Poor old Erin’s Isle, they began abusing
    “Hurrah me soul,” says I, my shillelagh I let fly
    Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in
    With a loud “hurray” joined in the affray
    We quickly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin

    Chorus