One evening while out strollin' a friend I chanced to see
He was begging behind a bottle on Spring and Bowery
He said "I got some news for you, only cost a couple of bob
About a buried treasure back home in Ballydehob
Well I gave him all the bucks I had and he took me by the hand
"I know you love musicians - I've got news to beat the band
For back there in me native town in the Allied Irish Bank
The long lost tapes of Hendrix are hidden in the vault"
You can talk about your pyramids and your pints of Guinness stout
But the long lost tapes of Hendrix will leave them in the dirt
So I stole me boss's credit card, to the airport I did jog
Very soon thereafter I arrived in Ballydehob
When I hit the Allied Irish me fatigue turned to desire
I beheld two hundred pounds of sweet Maggie McGuire
She cast her eyes upon me, "what are you doin' in me bank?"
"I'm here on a secret mission, doll,"
"Oh no not another Yank
I hate the very sight of yez, apart from your president
That man can stimulate me any way he wants"
"What are you doin' later?"
"Yerra, I'm not up to much"
"Would you care for a pint of Guinness?
"I never touch the stuff."
But one pint led to two or three, six to seven or eight
Until I was shakin' hands with meself and that girl was feelin' no pain
She was startin' to look beautiful, though there was three of her in sight
Six hundred pounds of lovin',
"What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, sweet Maggie Magurie, there's one thing I'd adore
To go down to the vault of your bank and do it on the floor."
"No bother, a stór….that's easily arranged"
So we stole into the bank and down the creaky stairs
Soon we were inside the vault and dentin' the very floor
I could see the tapes of Hendrix and they hidden behind the door
I never had such a night of love, she knew every trick in the book
Over, under, sideways, by the mornin' I was shook
When she finally keeled over, I gently moved her weight
With her snores wakin' the very dead, I headed for the tapes
Then all at once, a big white flash took me by surprise
An apparition in tie-dye arose before me eyes
A curly headed black man exploded in the light
T'was the ghost of Jimi Hendrix and him playin' the Uilleann pipes
I woke up in the hospital a weddin' ring on me hand
Two hundred pounds of Maggie McGuire smilin' to beat the band
"Oh, you're so romantic, no engagement did I need
Just one mad night of blisterin' s** brought me to my knees"
So now I live in Ballydehob where the rain pours down all week
I'm nearly faded away from tendin' to Maggie McGuire's needs
The moral of this story is "don't ever find your dreams"
And keep away from Hendrix and his goddamn bloody tapes.
You can talk about your pyramids and your pints of Guinness stout
But the long lost tapes of Hendrix will leave them in the dirt