Up to mighty London came an Irishman one day,
As the streets are paved with gold, sure ev’ryone was gay;
Singing songs of Piccadilly, Strand and Leicester Square,
Till Paddy got excited, then he shouted to them there:
Chorus:
“lt’s a long way to Tipperary,
It’s a long way to go;
It’s a long way to Tipperary,
To the sweetest girl I know!
Good-ye, Piccadilly!
Farewell, Leicester Square!
It’s a long, long way to Tipperary,
But my heart’s right there! ”
Paddy wrote a letter to his Irish Molly O,
Saying, “Should you not receive it,
Write and let me know!
If I make mistakes in spelling, Molly dear,” said he
” Remember it’s the pen that’s bad,
Don’t lay the blame on me.”
Molly wrote a neat reply to Irish Paddy 0.
Saying. “Mike Mahoney wants to marry me, and so
Leave the Strand and Piccadilly, or you’ll be to blame
For love has fairly drove me silly, hoping you’re the same!”
I går var jeg sammen med en person, der ikke kunne gætte, hvor Tipperary lå. Og straks dukkede melodien op i mit hoved. It’s a long Way to Tipperary/To the sweetest Girl I know… Vi sang den igen og igen i skolen, og tænkte næppe meget over, at den også kunne bruges til at marchere i krig med. Det irske regiment brugte den under første Verdenskrig og siden tog englænderne (og mange andre) den til sig.