Funky Ceili (Bridie’s Song) Songtext
von Black 47

Bridie, where are you girl?
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"


Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
I was born to play the funky ceili
Over the seas, far away
Off to Amerikay
Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
Where the wild, wild women
Are waitin' for me
Think of me, Bridie whenever you see
Me there on your MTV
I love you, a cushla
But how could I be without me

Punky funky ceili?

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, a stor
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
The auld fella said, "You got two choices

Castration, or a one way ticket to New York"
Oh, Bridie, what could I do, girl?

Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
I was born to play the funky ceili
Over the seas and far away
Off to Amerikay
Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
Where the wild, wild women
Are waitin′ for me
Think of me, Bridie whenever you see
Me there on your MTV


I love you, a cushla
But how could I be without me
Punky funky ceili?

So here I am up on Bainbridge Avenue
Still in one piece but glad I'm alive
Drinkin′ dirty big glasses of porter
Playin' me jigs and me reels and me slides
Think of 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
From his daddy, in the Bronx

Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
I was born to play the funky ceili
Over the seas and far away
Off to Amerikay
Fiddleeee diddleeee deidelydee
Where the wild, wild women
Are waitin′ for me

Think of me, Bridie whenever you see
Me there on your MTV
I love you, a cushla
But how could I be without me
Punky funky ceili?

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
Oh, Bridie