On the day George Grey got out of gaol he was greeted with applause.
The townsfolk torched the courthouse down, a rabble with a cause
I knew some things, knew the whats and the whereabouts, but never said a damning word.
George kept his secrets to himself, so discretion was preferred.
The loathsome Turk he reigned supreme while George was doing time
A goose-stepping ogre of a man, a cesspool full of slime.
He held his drink well, like a prizefighter in his prime, still standing after 13 rounds
Gloat now, when Crazy George returns, we’ll feed you to the hounds.
I so strong. I lift a stone and I break a wall.
I kill you dead, I eat you liver and I poke you eye
The Turk knew his time was up one eve when George came to the bar
Asking for a pint of black and tan and his beat-up old guitar
Froth on his whiskers and spit flying through his teeth, George Grey burst into a song
He sang the Fields Of Athenry, and we all sang along.