> Folk Music > Songs > Murphy’s Running Dog
Murphy’s Running Dog
[ Roud 32989 ; Mudcat 157545 ; trad.]
Daoirí Farrell sang Murphy’s Running Dog on his 2023 album The Wedding Above in Glencree. He noted:
Originating from County Wexford, Murphy’s Running Dog was actually a Jack Russell rather than the expected greyhound, as racing Jack Russells was a local sport. I love this song but it’s also included here as I have my own small tradition that has seen me feature a song about dogs on all of my albums to date.
Molly Donnery sang Murphy’s Running Dog on The Ciderhouse Rebellion’s 2014 album A Little Bit Slanted. She noted:
Sang this one at my first ever All-Ireland competition, and forgot the lyrics to the last verse. It’s funny now but at the time was a bit traumatic! But this is still one of my favourites and always reminds me of my grandad Donnery who is a big fan of the dogs.
Lyrics
Daoirí Farrell sings Murphy’s Running Dog
Ah my usual occupation is to mould and temper clay
Last year I turned to betting and I found it wouldn’t pay
I ran my dog in Wexford Park and I ran him in Ballystraw
In the latter place he lost the race for he stopped to lick his paw
I ran him in Kilkenny and I ran him in Tralee
I ran him in Enniscorty and again in Carbury
He won a race in Thurles and he lost one in Athlone
He’d have ran away with the race that day though he stopped to lick a bone
Chorus (after each verse):
Bad luck to gambling I’m in an awful fix
And out of four pound six and eight pence all I have is one and six
We‘ll go in to Shea’s or Kenny’s and we’ll drink a glass of grog
And we’ll go home by Dunbrody singing Murphy’s running dog
In the Edenderry Mill Stakes sure he came home in a stroll
O and on Roscommon’s clotty sod no winning form he found
For those western dogs had cut out clogs and they ran him in the ground
O I ran my dog in Dublin on the 23rd of June
And as I brought him to the slip he licked the magic spoon
Not even Johnson’s motor car could pass him out that day
And we drank fifty pints of Guinness stout before we went away
O you’ll hear him yell a mile away when he is in the slips
And when the hare he sees he’ll shake his knees and then he’ll smack his lips
O I think Campile’s about a mile and if my dog don’t lose
Well it’s off we’ll start to Matty Harte’s where we’ll go on the booze
And we’ll ask for two half barrels to be tapped upon the bridge
And there upon the wall we’ll drink it all from there we will not budge
And we’ll drink a praise to Wexford’s craze of Cherry’s beer and grog
And we’ll drown all cares I do declare with Murphy’s running dog
Andy Barton’s Biddy The Nailer, it’s manys the race he’s ran
And on the wet North Slob so help me Bob t’was there my dog first won
And when Mr. Bob yolked up his car home from Wexford he did jog
O well every hare I do declare was picked up by my dog
Now I hope you’re not offended by these few lines written here
I hope to see the old committee and the stewards do well next year
Bring your true love to Kilmarnock boys and if my greyhound wins
Well we’ll dance all night ‘til the broad daylight in Costello’s of Saltmills