Bar the door Casey, don’t let me in,
My shade’ll not cross your dear threshold again,
Bar the door Casey, mind the way well,
And send my poor ghost on to heaven or hell.
We’ve fought scores of sailors for the suds frae a keg,
O’er the draw of a card, or a rare glimpse of leg,
threshold
tears
taken
strands
stormed
stayin
shade
sailors
memory
picket
docks
mourned
cross
siege
close
years
where
beaches
parting
again
barge
their
foreign
china
white
casey
scores
graced
ghost
missus
glimpse
fought
penned
heaven
knocks
lines
lovers
Click on any word to see the translation
Click on this icon to translate the entire sentence