Lyrics:

Here comes Mister MacNeil
The fine shape that he is in
There is no telling which way he'll feel
After his twister around the beinn

Chorus:
Raisin' the jar an raisin' hell
There's plenty of stories that they will tell
Some are born of true detail
Some are purely fiction

Look up yonder it's old MacPhee
He's having a few he can hardly see
Wrapped his buggy around a tree
Someone call the Mounties

Up spoke fine young Cameron
At the dance got a fearful hammerin'
Today I'll stutter and stammerin'
There'll be hell to pay come Saturday

Danny Wright had a light
Burning bright every night
Waiting for the fish to bite
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh

There they stand by the door
Selling bush by the score
Asking you to buy some more
Along the shores of 'Cocomagh

I'll go home, I'll go home
Full of the devil and full of the rum
I'll go home, I'll go home
We'll all go home in the morning
(repeat x5)