Go raibh maith agat, Rick
You beat me to it!
Here are the entire words to

THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN:

In the merry month of June, when first from home I started,
And left the girls alone, sad and broken-hearted,
Shook hands with Father dear, kissed my darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, my grief and tears to smother;
Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born,
I cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghost and goblin.
With a pair of brand new brogues I rattled o'er the bogs,
Sure I frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.

CHORUS: For it's the rocky road, here's the road to Dublin;
Here's the rocky road, now, fire away to Dublin.

In Mullingar, that night, I, my limbs so weary,
Started by daylight with spirits light and airy;
Took a drop of the pure to keep my spirits from sinking,
That's always an Irishman's cure whenever he's troubled with thinking,
To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At my comical style, set my heart a-bubblin';
They asked if I was hired, the wages I required
Until I almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it was a pity
To be so deprived of a view of that fine city;
'Twas then I took a stroll all along the quality,
My bundle then was stole in a neat locality,
Something crossed my mind, thinks I, I'll look behind,
No bundle could I find upon my stick a-wobblin;
Inquiring for the rogue, they said my Connaught brogue,
It wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.

A coachman raised his hand as if myself was wantin'
I went up to a stand full of cars for jauntin'
"Step up, my boy!" says he; "Ah! that I will with your pleasure,
And to the strawberry beds I'll drive you at your leisure,"
"A strawberry bed," says I—"faith! that would be too high,
On one of straw I'll lie, and the berries won't be troublin'"
He drove me out as far, upon an outside car,
Faith! such jolting never wor on the rocky road to Dublin.

I soon got out of that, my spirits never failing,
I landed on the quay just as the ship was sailing,
The captain at me roared, swore that no room had he,
But when I leapt on board, they a cabin found for paddy,
Down among the pigs I played with rummy rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, with the water round me bubblin'
But when off Holyhead I wished that I was dead,
Or safely put in bed on the rocky road to Dublin.

The boys in Liverpool, when in the dock I landed,
Called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it,
My blood began to boil, my temper I was losin'
And poor old Erin's isle they all began abusin'
"Hurrah! my boys," says I, my shillelagh I let fly,
Some Galway boys were by, they saw I was a hobble in,
Then, with a loud "hurrah!" they joined me in the fray,
And then we cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin....

There is another verse but I forget it at the moment. The last four lines are:

I did not sigh nor moan until I saw Athlone,
And a pain in my shin-bone, it set my pace a-troublin'
And fearing the big cannon, looking o'er the Shannon,
I very quickly ran on the rocky road to Dublin.