There was a row in Silver Street that’s near to Dublin Quay,
Between an Irish regiment an’ English cavalree;
It started at Revelly an’ it lasted on till dark:
The first man dropped at Harrison’s, the last forninst the Park.
For it was: “Belts, belts, belts, an’ that’s one for you!”
An’ it was “Belts, belts, belts, an’ that’s done for you!”
O buckle an’ tongue
Was the song that we sung
From Harrison’s down to the Park!
There was a row in Silver Street the regiments was out,
They called us “Delhi Rebels”, an’ we answered “Threes about!”
That drew them like a hornet’s nest we met them good an’ large,
The English at the double an’ the Irish at the charge.
Then it was: “Belts. . .
There was a row in Silver Street an’ I was in it too;
We passed the time
o’ day, an’ then the belts went whirraru!
I misremember what occurred, but subsequint the storm
A Freeman’s Journal Supplemint was all my uniform.
O it was: “Belts. . .
There was a row in Silver Street they sent the Polis there,
The English were too drunk to know, the Irish didn’t care;
But when they grew impertinint we simultaneous rose,
Till half o’ them was Liffey mud an’ half was tatthered clo’es.
For it was: “Belts. . .
There was a row in Silver Street it might ha’ raged till now,
But some one drew his side-arm clear, an’ nobody knew how;
‘Twas Hogan took the point an’ dropped; we saw the red blood run:
An’ so we all was murderers that started out in fun.
While it was: “Belts. . .
There was a row in Silver Street but that put down the shine,
The poor dumb corpse that couldn’t tell the bhoys were sorry for him.
When it was: “Belts. . .