They call me Billy Collins,
boys, I'm as Irish as my name
And like my pa before me,
But to see the River Shannon
has always been my dream.
I've prayed I'd lay my dying soul
beside her lovely stream.
This muddy water filled with stone
Looks like Collins Creek to me
My father's kin have made their homes
Up and down this riverbed
And it's here beside this granite stone
It was 14 sonic victories,
that brought me north to New York,
beneath the garden lights,
where the Puerto Rican racketeers
played their money smart.
They loaded up their fighter's gloves
and destroyed my fighting heart.
So it was home I went in blind defeat.
Then served me pints of gin
And the roar of the thundering fight crowd
In one desperate scream is drowned
I was too damn drunk to see the things
That had thrown me to the ground
This muddy water filled with stone
looks like Collins Creek to me.
My father's kin have made their homes
up and down this river bed.
And it's here, beside this granite stone,
So you can have your new world,
with all its fast machines.
Your fancy cars and painted horse
And all your goddamn dreams
I'd trade it all to lay my head
But it's here beside this
They'll lay fightin' Bill to rest
Billy Collins lost his pride
But he never lost his nerve
He ran the straight and narrow
But couldn't make the curve
Ran off the road near Collins Creek
blind drunk late one night
but he may have won the fight
and I don't believe the river Shannon
This muddy water filled with stone
looks like Collins Creek to me.
My father's kin have made their homes
up and down this river bed.
And it's here beside this granite stone
Yes, it's me, beside this granite stone,
