Seamus in the Fog

Oh the drums were tappin’ softly in the Three Drunken Frogs,
And Seamus walked in smilin’ through the Galway evening fog.
With a glass of golden whiskey and a story to declare,
He slapped the bar and shouted, “Turn that music up in here!”

He toasted half the county and he toasted half again,
And told a tale of Dublin that confused most of the men.
The band began a samba but he swore it sounded Celtic,
He tried to sing along but the timing was… athletic.

Seamus, Seamus! Lift your glass up high!
Dance a little samba with a twinkle in your eye!
Oh Seamus, Seamus! Sure the world’s your stage!
But you’re fifty-eight and wobblin’ like a boat against the waves!
Hey—Ho!
Seamus in the fog again!

By midnight he was preachin’ like a bishop on the run,
Quotin’ Yeats with rolled-up sleeves and swearin’ it was fun.
He stumbled toward the doorway for a breath of Galway air,
And muttered, “I’m invincible!”—then vanished who-knows-where.

Seamus, Seamus! Lift your glass up high!
Dance a little samba with a twinkle in your eye!
Oh Seamus, Seamus! Sure the world’s your stage!
But you’re fifty-eight and wobblin’ like a boat against the waves!
Hey—Ho!
Seamus in the fog again!

Now the dawn came slow and ghostly, and the tide was ridin’ low,
And a tiny wooden hull rocked gentle to and fro.
Seamus woke and shouted, “Saints preserve me—where am I?”
Galway Bay just grinned at him beneath a misty sky.

He roared across the water like a storyteller wronged,
“Would somebody kindly fetch me? I’ve been driftin’ far too long!”
The fishermen all whispered, “It’s that Seamus lad again…”
And rowed to bring him homeward to the Three Drunken Frogs and friends.

Seamus, Seamus! Raise your voice and cheer!
Samba-step your way back to your favorite pint of beer!
Oh Seamus, Seamus! You’ll be back by ten—
And by sundown you’ll be singin’ with the band again!
Hey—Ho!
Seamus in the fog again!