St. Stephens Day - text

I stumbled into Merrion row to listen to a tune
I fought my way down Grafton by the rising of the moon
I sat on the floor of my poxy room just me and the BBC
Eating bachelors beans out of the tin there's nothing here for me

And a rovin' you will go
You are not the one she wants
You are just a ghost
From an evening haunt
And a rovin' you will go
And you wish that she would stay
For now your day is empty and it's just another day

I put my pen to paper but there's nothin to be said
I might as well be in the desert with a turban on my head
I could go to Trader John's or I could shower and could shave
I could go on up to Wicklow and throw a rose on Ronnie's grave

I drank until my bones shook and gathered all my pay
I stood outside the locked up bar along the bachelors quay
I had absolutely forgotten that it was Christmas day
And now there's nothing open and there's nothing left to say

And it's only Christmas day
And it's just St. Stephen's Day