Alison, here's two more verses.

I spoke to the captain, he won't turn her round
And if I swam back, I'd be apt to be drowned
So here I must stay, oh I've no cause to fret
The dinner was what you might call a banquet
But though it was "sumpchus", I'd swop the whole lot
For the ould wooden spoon and the stir-about pot
And sweet Katey Farrell awettin' the tae
Where they're cuttin' the corn in Creeshla the day

If Katey is courted by Patsey or Mick
Put a word in for me, with a lump of a stick
Don't kill Patsey outright, he has no sort of chance
But Mickey's a rogue, you might murder at once
For Katey might think as the longer she waits
A boy in the hand is worth two in the States
And she'll promise to honour, to love and obey
Some robber that's roamin' round Creeshla the day

Regards Mick Bracken