Lyrics:

O'Sullivan John to the road you're gone,
far away from your native land,
You've gon with the tinker's daughter
far along the road to roam,
O'Sullivan John you wont stick it long
till your belly will soon be slack,
As you roam the road with a mighty loan,
and a tool box on your back.

I met Katie Coffee with her neat baby,
behind on her back strapped on,
She'd an old ash plant in her hand
to drive the donkey along,
Enquiring at every farmers house,as
along the road she passed,
And it's where would you get an
old pot to mend,and where would she get an ass.

There's a hairy ass fair in the County Clare
in a place they call Spancil Hill,
Where my brother James got a wrap of a haimes,
and poor Paddy they tried to kill,
They loaded him up in an old ass and cart
while Kate and big Mary looked on,
Ah,bad luck to the day that I went away,
to join with the tinkers band.