Mrs. McGrath

“Mrs. McGrath,” the sergeant said
“Would you like to make a soldier
Out of your son, Ted?
With a scarlet cloak and a big cocked hat
Mrs. McGrath, wouldn’t you like that?”

Mrs. McGrath lived on the shore
And after seven years or more
She spied a ship come into the bay
With her son from far away

“Oh, Captain dear, where have you been
Have you been out sailing on the Mediterranean
Have you news of my son Ted
Is he living or is he dead?”

Now then came Ted without any legs
And in their place, two wooden pegs
She kissed him a dozen times or two
And said, “My God, Ted, is it you?”

“Now were you drunk or were you blind
When you left your two fine legs behind?
Or was it out walking upon the sea
That wore your two fine legs away?”

“No, I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t blind
When I left my two fine legs behind
A cannon ball on the fifth of May
Tore my two fine legs away”

“Ah, Teddy, boy,” the widow cried
“Your two fine legs were your mother’s pride
Them stumps of a tree won’t do at all
Why didn’t you run from the cannon ball?”

“Well, foreign wars, I do proclaim
Live on only blood and a mother’s pain
I’d rather have my son as he used to be
Then the King of America and his whole Navy”