The Reaper and Tam McCorty Songtext
von The Rumjacks
The Reaper and Tam McCorty Songtext
Tam he woke tae find a shadow by the bed,
Blamed it on the vapors still beleaguerin′ his head,
Scrubbed his chops & dragged an oily bug rake through his hair,
And wiped the mirror tae find the bogey mimickin' his stare,
He boilt the jug tae quench his mug & baked a lump o′ toast,
Hid behind the racin' pages from the hoary ghost,
"Awfy ghostie if yer here tae make me dead,
Spare me life & bother me wife or Mother-in-law instead!"
"Tam McCorty I'm not here to make you cry,
I know youre just a broken man wi′ longing in his eye,
I′ll say my say & go my way a-carving through the rye,
Tam McCorty, its not your day to die."
"By the way ye've hung yer tools o′ trade & mantle I can tell,
Ye willnae leave until ye've seen me safely intae hell,
So follow me down the ′Horse & Crown' of liquor I′m sae fond,
I'll drink meself tae death & haunt the witches from beyond."
They drank to fallen heroes, they spat & cursed the Queen,
They argued o'er ′Black Caviar′ - The finest ever seen?
They smoked cigars & played at cards for pots o' Gilbeys Gin,
Roarin′ as the fiery liqour, it spilled all down their chin.
They staggered home along the tracks & pissed against a post,
The dogs a' barkin′ madly, all as though they'd seen a ghost,
"Oh take me now I beg you, pick yer mark & pick it well,
I′m tired o' livin' & there I think I hear the hounds o′ HELL!"
Death threw his cloak across him where he passed out in his chair,
And whispered in a frosty tone directly in his ear,
"Best you learn to live again, forgive yerself yer past,
For when you see me next Tam, it′ll be your last."
Blamed it on the vapors still beleaguerin′ his head,
Scrubbed his chops & dragged an oily bug rake through his hair,
And wiped the mirror tae find the bogey mimickin' his stare,
He boilt the jug tae quench his mug & baked a lump o′ toast,
Hid behind the racin' pages from the hoary ghost,
"Awfy ghostie if yer here tae make me dead,
Spare me life & bother me wife or Mother-in-law instead!"
"Tam McCorty I'm not here to make you cry,
I know youre just a broken man wi′ longing in his eye,
I′ll say my say & go my way a-carving through the rye,
Tam McCorty, its not your day to die."
"By the way ye've hung yer tools o′ trade & mantle I can tell,
Ye willnae leave until ye've seen me safely intae hell,
So follow me down the ′Horse & Crown' of liquor I′m sae fond,
I'll drink meself tae death & haunt the witches from beyond."
They drank to fallen heroes, they spat & cursed the Queen,
They argued o'er ′Black Caviar′ - The finest ever seen?
They smoked cigars & played at cards for pots o' Gilbeys Gin,
Roarin′ as the fiery liqour, it spilled all down their chin.
They staggered home along the tracks & pissed against a post,
The dogs a' barkin′ madly, all as though they'd seen a ghost,
"Oh take me now I beg you, pick yer mark & pick it well,
I′m tired o' livin' & there I think I hear the hounds o′ HELL!"
Death threw his cloak across him where he passed out in his chair,
And whispered in a frosty tone directly in his ear,
"Best you learn to live again, forgive yerself yer past,
For when you see me next Tam, it′ll be your last."
Writer(s): Francis Mclaughlin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com