This song is seriously about the alcoholic:
DANNY FARRELL (by Pete St. John)
I knew Danny Farrell when his football was a can
With his hand-me-downs and Welliers and his sandwiches of bran;
But now that pavement peasant is a full grown bitter man
With all the trials and troubles of his travelling people's clan.
CHORUS: He's a loser, a boozer, a me and you user,
A raider, a trader, a people police hater.
So lonely and only, what you'd call a gurrier,
Still now, Danny Farrell, he's a man.
I knew Danny Farrell when he joined the National School.
He was lousy at the Gaelic. They'd call him amadán - a fool.
He was brilliant in the toss school by trading objects in the pawn.
By the time he was an adult, all his charming ways had gone.
I knew Danny Farrell when we queued up for the dole,
And he tried to hide the loss of pride that eats away the soul.
But mending pots and kettles is a trade lost in the past.
"There's no hand-out here for tinkers," was the answer when he asked. CHORUS
I still know Danny Farrell, saw him just there yesterday
Taking methylated spirits with some winos on the quay.
Oh, he's forty going on eighty, with his eyes of hope bereft,
And he told me this for certain: there's not many of us left. CHORUS