Luke, I believe you are correct, I remember hearing it in the 1950's in Rockaway and singing it myself in the 70's and 80's a few times at the John Barleycorn on 45th street. As I recall these are the words the way I learned them listening to the McNulty family or Ruthie Morrisey.


There's a man by the name of Mike Hogan, he's plaguing me out of my life.
He has a fine daughter named Bridget and he wants me to make her my wife.
She stands six foot four in her stockings, her size of myself would make three,
And whenever I'm standing beside her, sure my elbows reach just to her knees.

Chorus:
Patsy McCann will you marry my daughter, oh Patsy McCann she's the girl you will wed,
Ten golden sovereigns down I will give you, a three legged stool and a fine feather bed.
St Peter, St Paul and St Patrick all the pictures that hang on the wall.
I will throw them all in to the bargain if you'll marry my daughter at all.

So I married this old Bridget Hogan and she's mine now for better or worse,
But the blessings that she should have brought me, now appear to have turned to a curse.
She bites me, she kicks me, she flays me, and she ties me lest I'd run away.
This six foot four beauty's a caution, but her father was worse for to say

Chorus: