American Pie by Handmaiden777

An Irish Ballad

by Tom Lerher

About a maid I sing a song
Sing rickety tickety tin
About a maid I sing a song
Who didn't have her family long
Not only did she do them wrong
She did every one of them in, them in
She did every one of them in

One morning in a fit of peak
Sing rickety tickety tin
One morning in a fit of peak
She drown her father in the creek
The water tasted bad for a week
So we had to make due with Gin, with Gin
We had to make due with Gin

Her mother she could never stand
Sing rickety tickety tin
Her mother she could never stand
And so a cyanide stew she planned
Her mother died with a spoon in her hand
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin
Her face in a hideous grin

She set her sisters hair on fire
Sing rickety tickety tin
She set her sisters hair on fire
And as the smoke and flames rose higher
She danced around the funeral pyre
Playing a violin, 'olin
Playing a violin

(Spoken fast)
She weighted her brother down with stones
Sing rickety tickety tin
She weighed her brother down with stones
And sent him off to Davy Jones
(Sung)
All they ever found were some bones
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin
Occasional pieces of skin

One day when she had nothing to do
Sing rickety tickety tin
One day when she had nothing to do

She cut her baby brother in two
Served him up as an Irish Stew
And invited the neighbors in, 'bors in
And invited the neighbors in

And when at last the police came by
Sing rickety tickety tin
And when at last the police came by
Her little pranks she could not deny
To do so she would have had to lie
And lying she knew was a sin, a sin
And lying she knew was a sin

My ghastly tale I'll not prolong
Sing rickety tickety tin
My ghastly tale I'll not prolong
And if you did not enjoy my song
You've yourself to blame if it's too long
You should never have let me begin, begin
You should never have let me begin!