O'Brien was a friend of mine and he had a mighty wife
She bore him eighteen children, through
years of joy and strife
When her temper started risin', she would turn a brilliant red
And
she'd maybe break a bowl or two, as she thundered off to bed
Give the woman in the bed more
porter
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Give the woman in the bed more
porter
Before she wrecks the house
When she'd drunk her fill of porter, then she'd
begin to snore
And the bed would shake and rattle, as it pounded 'round the floor
O'Brien
manned the kitchen while the blankets flew about
And he'd run like hell to buy more drink and
she'd begin to shout
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Give the woman in the bed
more porter
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Before she wrecks the house
The
doctors tried for years and years, to cool her temper down
They fed her herbs and potions, and
powders by the pound
But the man who found the cure for her, a scorcher, Paddy Mallon
Said
to keep her calm you've got to give her porter by the gallon
Give the woman in the bed more
porter
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Give the woman in the bed more
porter
Before she wrecks the house
Well the porter kept her cool and calm, and porter
made her sing
And sometimes when she'd had enough she'd dance a Highland Fling
When O'Brien
took a drop himself, he'd join her in a song
And a happier pair you'd never see, and they'd sing
the whole night long
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Give the woman in the bed
more porter
Give the woman in the bed more porter
Before she wrecks the house
