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• Artiste: Gaelic Storm
• Titre: The Bear And The Butcher Boy
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Wrapped up in brown paper Tied up with white string He would whistle as he went When he was happy, he would sing Well, Billy Batty was a butcher boy He rode a butcher’s bike Down Dublin’s dirty back streets At the dawning of daylight He loved a girl named Lucy Lucy loved another lad A soldier, tall and handsome This made young Billy sad One day the circus came to town It had a dancing bear Well, Billy had to go For he knew she would be there The second he rode up He know that something was awry The crowd was all a gallop Yelling, “Run before you die!” Well, the bear was mad with hunger And had broke free from his chain He had rampaged through the bigtop When all at once he came Across the poor, young Lucy Fallen, curled up on the ground The soldier boy was hiding He was nowhere to be found Wrapped up in brown paper Tied up with white string He would whistle as he went When he was happy, he would sing Now, Billy heard her screams And knew at once what he must do He took off on his trusty bike And to her aid, he flew He cycled right up to the bear And he threw a piece of meat The bear spun right around And he caught that beefy treat He scarfed it down in just one bite And looked up for some more Around in circles, Billy Trailing sausage on the floor Just out of reach he kept him As he lured the beast away The bear had got a taste Now, brave, young Billy was his prey Wrapped up in brown paper Tied up with white string He would whistle as he went When he was happy, he would sing He would sing Three times around the tent The creature had to stop He rested and he thought Then he began to skip and hop He danced a polka and a waltz To everyone’s delight The crowd began to clap and cheer At such a wondrous site Billy tossed the bear a lambchop Then a mighty T-bone steak The dancing just got faster And the ground began to shake He swallowed, whole, two turkeys Strings of sausages galore Then full, he gently lay down And began to loudly snore Well, the crowd went wild with pleasure As to our hero Lucy ran She forgot the soldier boy Now, brave young Billy was her man Now, the moral of this story is If you want to win your Lucy You'd better have a trusty bike And a sausage, plump and juicy A sausage, plump and juicy Wrapped up in brown paper Tied up with white string Now, he never whistles, Every day, every day he sings La da... And every day, every day he sings La da... You’ve got chitterlings and chicken wings Liver, tongue or tail Gizzards, skirt or marrowbone Game hen, grouse or quail There's trotters, T-bone, legs or thighs Brisket, neck or jowl Partridge, duck and turkey Pheasant, guinea fowl Rib eye, round or sirloin Topside, rump or flank Bison, goat, London broil Porterhouse or shank Black pudding, bacon, rashers Scratchings, chicken feet Haggis, ham and sweet bread There's every kind of meat You've got shoulder, mutton, rabbit A rack of lamb or chops Veal, venison, tripe And kidney, heart or hocks