“Funky Céilí (Bridie’s Song)” Sheet Music (pdf).
“Funky Céilí (Bridie’s Song)” Karaoke (midi with lyrics).
Lyrics: Larry Kirwan.
Tune: Larry Kirwan.
Bridie was teachin’ out in Carysfort.
I was workin’ in the bank.
Two paychecks every Friday.
And a Morris Minor out in the back.
But I was mad for jigs and reels,
Drinkin’ dirty big pints of stout,
When the Bank of Ireland gave me the boot.
They said, “Don’t let the door hit your
Arse on the way out.
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee diedely-dee.
I was born to play the funky céilí.
Over the seas and far away
Off to Americay,
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee deidely-dee,
Where the wild, wild women are waitin’ for me.
Think of me, Bridie, whenever you see me
There on your MTV.
I love you, acushla, but how could I be
Without me punky funky céilí?
Bridie broke down and started to bawl
When I told her about me divorce from the bank.
She said, “I’ve got news of me own.
Astór, I’m two months late; it’s not with the rent.
She said I’d have to be tellin’ her Da.
So, we drove the Morris Minor to Cork,
Where the old fellah said,
“You’ve got two choices: castration
Or a one-way ticket to New York.”
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee diedely-dee.
I was born to play the funky céilí.
Over the seas and far away
Off to Americay,
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee deidely-dee,
Where the wild, wild women are waitin’ for me.
Think of me, Bridie, whenever you see me
There on your MTV.
I love you, acushla, but how could I be
Without me punky funky céilí?
So, here I am up on Bainbridge Avenue,
Still in one piece and glad I’m alive,
Drinkin’ dirty big glasses of porter,
Playin’ me jigs and me reels and me slides.
Think of you, Bridie, whenever I’m sober,
Which isn’t too often, I have to confess.
Take good care of the Morris Minor.
Bad luck to your Da and give the baby
A great big kiss.
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee diedely-dee.
I was born to play the funky céilí.
Over the seas and far away
Off to Americay,
Fiddle-ee diddle-ee deidely-dee,
Where the wild, wild women are waitin’ for me.
Think of me, Bridie, whenever you see me
There on your MTV.
I love you, acushla, but how could I be
Without me punky funky céilí?
Oh, Bridie, I’m still crazy about you, girl.
Does the baby look like me, Bridie?
Has he got red hair and glasses?
Oh, Bridie, sell the Morris Minor.
Come on out to America.
Girl, the pubs never close over here.
I’ve got a palace up on Bainbridge Avenue.
I’ve got the biggest bed in the world, girl.
Oh, we can stay in it and make babies forever….