Lillis Ó Laoire sings Cearc agus Coileach almost as it is written in the DT version – with minor differences plus an additional verse.
This version is shorter and simpler than the Munster and Connacht versions posted above, but has a chorus – which Lillis usually sings only after the first and last verses. This version comes from the singing of John Phaidí Hiúdaí Ó Duibheannaigh of Rann na Feirste. In the album notes for 'Bláth Gach Géag dá dTig', Lillis writes, 'Although on the face of it, the song seems to be about a cock and a hen, it is difficult not to agree with John Ó Duibheannaigh's suggestion that it is a satirical song about the behaviour of human beings.'

CEARC AGUS COILEACH

Cearc agus coileach a d'imigh le chéile
Amach fríd na sléibhte gur bris siad a gcroí
Chuaigh siad go Sligeach 's go Corcaigh 'na dhiaidh sin
Nó go ndeachaigh an scéal amach fríd an tír

[Curfá]
Mo choileach breá ramhar a rugadh sa Mhárta
Nógo dtáinig na mná a chuir dúil insan fheoil
Phioc siad a chrúba agus scil siad a chnámha
Agus chaith siad an lá sin súgach go leor.

Dá bhfeicfeá mo choileach lá aonaigh na sráide
' Fhuip ina dhorn 's é chomh bródúil le rí
Bhípéire spor geal air, den airgead déanta
'Hata fá lásaíagus lámhainníbuí.

Chuir mé mo choileach go paróiste Bhaollach
San áit a mbeadh didean aige le fail,
An áit a bhfuil na fir fhearúl' a chroithfeadh an síol
'S nach maifeadh a choiche ar mo choileach a sháith.

'Och, och,' ars' an chearc is ígo ar an aradh
Nach buartha bocht imníoch deireadh mo scéil
Athair mo chlainne 'gus céile mo leapa
Bheith sínte sa phota 'gus leac ar a bhéal.


Translation

A cock and a hen went away together
Out ot the hills until they broke their hearts
They went to Sligo and thereafter to Cork
Until the story went out through the country.

[chorus]
My fine fat cock who was born in March Until the women came who desired meat,They picked his claws and stripped his bones and spent the day merrily enough.

If you had seen my cock on the fair day, His whip in his hand and he as proud as a king, He wore a pair of bright spurs made of silver, A hat trimmed with lace and yellow gloves.

I sent my cock to the parish of the O'Boyles
Where he might find shelter
Where the generous men live who would scatter the seed
And who would never begrudge my cock his fill.

'Alas, alas,' said the hen, as she climbed the roost, 'How pitiful anxious and sad is the end of my story, The father of my children and the partner of my bed To be stretched in the pot with the stone on his mouth.'