I was looking for these - thanks - i sang a version in a play in the Lyric Theatre Belfast called - The Blind Fiddler - by the author of Stones in his Pckets - Marie Jones - here are the words i sang which came from a musician in Co Tyrone - it's interesting how the thing evolves as it's passed around - best Dan

Johnny McAdoo

Johnny McAdoo and me and McFee
And another two or three went on a spree one day
We had a bob or two which we knew how to blew
And the beer and whiskey flew and we all felt gay.
We visited McCann's Humpy Dan's Michael Mans
Then we then we all went down to Span's our bellies for to pack.
We ordered such a feed, which indeed we did need
We finished it was greed and we all felt slack.

Johnny McAdoo turned as blue as a shrew
When a plate of Irish stew sure he buried out of sight
He shouted out and called for some more with a roar
For he never felt before such a keen appetite
He ordered eggs and ham, bread and jam, such a cram!
But then they couldn't ram though they tried their level best
No matter what they brought, cold or hot mattered not,
It went down him like a shot, and he still stood the test

Sure he nearly took the croup, supping soup, pull the scoop
He was hardly fit to stoop, but he didn't care a pin
And he ate about a trough full of broth says McGough
He'll devour the table cloth if you don't houl him in
He swallowed tripe and lard by the yard he was scarred
For he knew it would go hard when they brought in the bill
And we told him to give o'er, but he swore he would lower
Twice as much again and more, aye, before he had his fill

When the waiter brought the charge, McAdoo was so large
Then he started for to barge and his blush caught fire
He started for to swear, pull his hair in despair
And to finish the affair called the shopman a liar
The shopman he drew out, and no doubt, he could clout
McAdoo went up and out like an old football
And he tattered all his clothes, broke his nose, I suppose
Nearly killed him with the blows in no time at all

McAdoo starts to howl, and to growl, by my sowl
And he threw an empty bowl at the shopkeeper's head
It hit oul Mickey Flynn, peeled the skin off his chin
And the row it did begin and we all fought and bled
The peelers did arrive, man alive, four or five,
And they hauled us all outside for to march away.
We paid for all the mate, that we ate, stood a trate,
We went home and ate a cow before the spree next day.