Is there a man who cares that I should be spared such of a life of drudgery Of digging clay, tossing cocks and hay wishing all the day that somehow I could be free CHORUS Oh you’re a rascal Tarry Flynn You’re writing poetry instead of digging drills Strolling around the fields all day Won’t you ever work or won’t you ever stay Oh mother can’t you see that the farmer’s life it was never meant for me to reap and sow I don’t want to know but to Dublin go for that’s where my life should be Don’t come to say goodbye mothers always cry shake my hands and set me free When fame has come to my Dublin home maybe then you’ll come there some day and visit me