Mad Pat
Mad Pat
There was a country fiddler,
A jester, a riddler, a joker,
A singer of songs,
In every town he passed
He'd stop to help the dancing master
Entertain his straw-rope-foot throng
And from a green cloth on his back
He'd take his fiddle
And some goodbye snow
Now singing high, now murmuring low
Now in the middle with his magic bow
And all the people would know.
Mad Paddy's gone back on the road
A wire string fiddle is his only load,
He's kicking up turf everywhere he goes
And he's on his own.
From the houses all the people they stare
At his Horslips and his emerald green hair
You know he keeps on moving
he just doesn't care
When he's on his own.
First he'll play a slow, slow air
So fair, to drive away your cares
And bring a magic sleep
Then the pace will quicken
As you burst out of your slumber
And find yourself up on your feet
But then his magic tune will change
To something strange, there's something wrong
What's going on.
And through the tears you cry
You'll look, you'll sigh, you'll feel like dying
Cos the fiddler's gone
Mad Paddy's moving on.
Mad Paddy's gone back on the road
A wire string fiddle is his only load
He's kicking up turf everywhere he goes
And he's on his own.
In the corner there's a smile on his face
His fancy is taking him to some distant place
You know his tunes keep changing
He can't keep the pace
And he's on his own
Mad Pat's on the road.
Loco Patricio
Loco Patricio
Había un violinista de campo,
Un bufón, un enigmático, un bromista,
Un cantante de canciones,
En cada pueblo que visitaba
Se detenía para ayudar al maestro de baile
A entretener a su multitud de pies de paja
Y de un paño verde en su espalda
Tomaba su violín
Y algo de nieve de despedida
Ahora cantando alto, ahora murmurando bajo
Ahora en medio con su arco mágico
Y toda la gente lo reconocería.
Loco Patricio ha vuelto a la carretera
Un violín de cuerdas de alambre es su única carga,
Está levantando turba por donde quiera que vaya
Y está solo.
Desde las casas toda la gente lo mira fijamente
A sus Horslips y su cabello verde esmeralda
Sabes que sigue moviéndose
A él simplemente no le importa
Cuando está solo.
Primero tocará una melodía lenta, lenta
Tan hermosa, para alejar tus preocupaciones
Y traer un sueño mágico
Luego el ritmo se acelerará
Mientras te despiertas de tu letargo
Y te encuentras de pie
Pero luego su melodía mágica cambiará
A algo extraño, hay algo mal
¿Qué está pasando?
Y a través de las lágrimas que lloras
Mirarás, suspirarás, te sentirás como morir
Porque el violinista se ha ido
Loco Patricio sigue adelante.
Loco Patricio ha vuelto a la carretera
Un violín de cuerdas de alambre es su única carga
Está levantando turba por donde quiera que vaya
Y está solo.
En la esquina hay una sonrisa en su rostro
Su fantasía lo lleva a algún lugar distante
Sabes que sus melodías siguen cambiando
No puede mantener el ritmo
Y está solo
Loco Patricio está en la carretera.