Here are the words of a song from memory, attributed to the same Pecker Dunne (I remember seeing him in the flesh as far back as 1968, never knew what became of him)
Sullivan's John to the road you've gone
Far away from your native home
You've gone with a tinker's daughter
All along the road to roam
Sullivan's John, sure you won't stick it long
Till your belly will soon get slack
As you go the road with your mighty load
And your toolbox on your back.
I met Katie Caffrey with her neat baby
Behind on her back strapped on
She had an ould ash plant all in her hand
For to drive her donkey on.
Enquiring at every farmer's house
As along the road she'd pass
Ah, where would you get an ould pot to mend
Or where would you swop an ass.
At the hairy ass fair in the county Clare
In a place they call Spancil Hill
There my brother James, got a belt of a hames(? spelling)
And poor Paddy they tried to kill.
The loaded him up on an ass and cart
[Can't remember this bit] . . . in his hand,
Oh bad cess to the day I went away
To join with the tinker's band.