But what if somebody did actually kill poor oul' Martin? Yes ... it's another opportunity to trot out a parody of "Nell Flaherty's Drake"!

Oh me friends of renown, I pray sit you down
For news has come round that may cause you to swoon
For the bird of my heart, the turkey called Mart
Was forced to depart in the middle of June
From his short life of pain in the town of Spokane
And never again shall he shake his oul' tail
Some character vile has wiped out our smiles
His venom and bile has caused us to wail

I hope that the goat gets a dose of the bloat
Or a bone in his throat as he chews on a fish
Or he falls in a pit that is brim-full with shit
Or he happens to sit on a seat damp with pish
May the fleas swarm in legions on his nether regions
And cause him great lesions and suck him near dry
May he get in a fight down the pub every night
And with left and with right someone blacken his eye

As he pulls on the chain may the loo fail to drain
And he'll have to explain to his mother-in-law
May his flies never zip, may his soles never grip
May his piles give him gip till he's scratched them red-raw
May he suffer from chronic gout, gallstones and colic
May one of his bollicks swell like a balloon
And the other contract, may he find himself sacked
Or often attacked by some knife-wielding loon

May he suffer from stutters, his heart beat to flutter
A spell in the gutter would do him no harm
A slap in the kisser, a dig in the fizzer
A midsummer blizzard to white-out his farm
A sudden eviction, a string of convictions
Banes and afflictions to plague all his days
Muscles like jelly, a sag to his belly
And his oul' breath so smelly it causes a haze

May beasts ad infinitum queue up to bite him
May women to spite him turn down his advance
May sniffles and wheezes, splutters and sneezes
All sorts of diseases lead him a dance
From carbuncles and pimples may his oul' face be dimpled
Of no ailment simple may he ever complain
May he pooly the bed till the moment he's dead
The scut that put paid to the bird of Spokane