Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] When I was a strappin’ young lad, bold and loud and sure, I went with a mate for a pint one night to the Troubadour. There stood an ogre by the door, a mountain named old Grat— And every man that crossed him swore they’d not forget him that! [Chorus] Oh sing me lads, and fill it fast, let tankards rise and roar, For I went a round with an ogre stout at the Troubadour! I was young and strong and twice as wrong, but I’ll tell ye true and fair— I stood me ground with Grat that night—lived to tell the tale! At the Troubadour! [Verse 2] I drank me fill of amber ale, the music loud and bright, The lasses danced, I spun them ‘round—ah, I was king that night! Then a heavy hand upon me shoulder, a voice both deep and grim, “You’ve had enough, now off ye go,” says Grat, with a stare so dim. [Verse 3] “Well sure,” says I, “the door’s that way, but me friend’s the other side, And I’m the one who brought him here—so I’ll not leave him behind.” I gathered him up and out we went, no quarrel in me mind, But he says, “Why go?” I says, “That brute just tossed me from inside!” [Chorus] Oh sing me lads, and fill it fast, let tankards rise and roar, For I went a round with an ogre stout at the Troubadour! I stood me ground with Grat that night—lived to tell the tale! At the Troubadour! [Verse 4] Then crack! came a club to me skull from behind—me temper flared like flame, I swung at a man who wasn’t Grat—then old Grat he came. His fists like forge hammers, his breath like rotted fish, I swung wild, I swung hard—but he barely felt a hit. [Verse 5] I stepped away, me vision blurred, he grinned like naught was wrong, So I left with what was left of pride—I’d not last very long. Next morn I faced the mirror—sweet saints, what did I see? A face like rocks in a rattled sack that once belonged to me! [Verse 6] Me brother went to hear the tale of what had come to pass, He found old Grat with a wee patch stuck where I’d caught his eye at last. The lasses said, “We’ve never seen a man stand toe to toe— You did yerself a proud one lad, and never once went low.” [Final Chorus] So sing me lads, and fill it fast, let tankards rise and roar, For I went a round with an ogre stout at the Troubadour! I stood me ground with Grat that night—lived to tell the tale! At the Troubadour! I stood me ground with Grat that night… and I’ll not go back there!
Tags
Rowdy Irish folk pub song, male vocal, fiddle, tin whistle, accordion, bodhrán, stomps, gang chorus, lively tempo, taver
Duration
4:38
Instrumental
No
Created
4/20/2026