Let me try this again!

The Kelligrew’s Soiree by John Burke

You may talk of Clara Nolan’s ball or anything you choose 
  But it could not hold a snuffbox to the spree at Kelligrews 
  If you want your eyeballs straightened just come out next week with me 
  And you’ll have to wear your glasses at the Kelligrew’s Soiree 
  	There was birch rine, tar twine, cherry wine and turpentine 
  	Jowls and cavalances, ginger beer and tea 
  	Pig’s feet, cat’s meat, dumplings boiled in a sheet 
  	Dandelion and crackies teeth at the Kelligrews Soiree 
   
  Oh I borrowed Cluney’s beaver as I squared my yards to sail 
  And a swallow tail from Hogan that was foxy on the tail 
  Billie Cuddahie’s old working pants and Patsy Nolan’s shoes 
  And an old white vest from Fogarty to sport at Kelligrews 
  	There was Dan Milley, Joe Lilly, Tantan and Mrs. Tilley 
  	Dancin’ like a little filly, ‘twould raise your heart to see 
  	Jim Brine, Din Ryan, Flipper Smith and Caroline 
  	I tell you, boys, we had a time at the Kelligrews Soiree 
   
  Oh when I arrived at Betsy Snooks’ that night at half-past eight 
  The place was blocked with carriages stood waiting at the gate 
  With Cluney’s funnel on my plate, the first words Betsy said 
  Here comes the local preacher with the pulpit on his head 
  	There was Bill Mews, Dan Hughes, Wilson, Wilson, Taft and Teddy Roose 
  	While Bryant he sat in the blues and looking hard at me 
  	Jim Fling, Ton King, and Johnson, champion of the ring 
  	And all the boxers I could bring at the Kelligrews soiree 
   
  The Saratoga Lancers first, Miss Betsy kindly said 
  Sure, I danced with Nancy Cronan and her Granny on the Head 
  And Hogan danced with Betsy, oh you should have seen his shoes 
  As he lashed old muskets from the rack that night at Kelligrews 
  	There was boiled guineas, cold guineas, bullocks’ heads and picaninnies 
  	And everything to catch the pennies, you’d break your sides to see 
  	Boiled duff, cold duff, apple jam was in a cuff 
  	I tell you, boys, we had enough at the Kelligrews soiree 
   
  Crooked Flavin struck the fiddler and a hand I then took in 
  You should see George Clooney's beaver and it flattened to the rim 
  And Hogan’s coat was like a vest, the tails were gone you see 
  Oh, says I, the devil haul ye and your Kelligrew's soiree  

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Lyrics also posted in Irish Newfoundland Songs