Irish Love Song - ©2004

An ugly girl sat at the end of the bar
The distance between us was not very far
She said "not a chance boy! I'll not be with you
No I may not be pretty, but you're ugly too!"

My disappointment was plain, a new plan would I need
Or be forced to admit she was out of my league
I worked on that girl at the end of the bar
Her face shone to me so much brighter than stars

I brought her a bottle of ale and to spare
The aroma of failure hung in the air
She filled up her glass with a fine steady hand
And the will of that woman soon started to bend

She was a large woman, this much must be said
Likely 400 pounds from her toes to her head
She had a wide "glass," her appetite was full-sized
But good fortune had smiled, for she had Irish eyes

Alas! The time came, my last chance had arrived
To my wonder I said, "Bonny lass! Be my bride!"
The answer came quickly, she missed not a beat
"If I agree to be yours, will you take me to eat?"

Fourty years have gone by since that night at the bar
This much have I learned, though it may sound bizarre:
A woman who finds a good man that can cook,
Will n'er give a strange man a hungry-eyed second look