This is what he says in a live recordidng taped from BFBS ages ago in the 'Eighties:

'Twas in the year of 'thirty-nine, when the sky was full of lead
When Hitler was heading for Poland and Paddy, for Holyhead
Come all you pincher laddies and you long-distance men
Don't ever work for McAlpine, for Wimpey, or John Laing

You'll stand behind a mixer and your skin is turned to tan
And they'll say, Good on you, Paddy, with your boat-fare in your hand
The craic was good in Cricklewood and they wouldn't leave the Crown
With glasses flying and Biddy's crying 'cause Paddy was going to town

Oh mother dear, I'm over here and I'm never coming back
What keeps me here is the reek o' beer, the ladies and the craic
I come from county Kerry, the land of eggs and bacon
And if you think I'll eat your fish 'n' chips oh dear then you're mistaken