V1. Well, Ol' Johhny Accordian-Boy was playin' in the band,
& every night they'd get so wrecked that they could hardly stand,
3 a.m. in Kentish Town, headin' homeward was his quest,
drunk & disorderly, he resisted an arrest!
V2. So, Ol' Johnny Accordian-boy was banged-up in the cell,
& to the strains of 'Lanigans ball', you could hear the bowsie yell,
the sergeant came & kicked the door, the law down he did lay:
"Oi, Paddy, shut yer gob- it's not St. Patricks' Day!"
CH. Well, EVERY DAY'S St. PATRICKS' DAY! -there's no needin' an excuse,
every night works-out this way, it's too easy cuttin' loose!
EVERY DAY'S St. PATRICKS' DAY! -if you know what I mean,
there's no need to wear a shamrock, or paint your mickey green!
V3. In London every weekend, see the feckers dance & sing,
from The Archway, Swan & Fiddler, to The Lark & Claddagh Ring,
& New York to California, Prague to Amsterdam's the same:
the hooley's the intention, the diaspora the name!