I am the little Irish boy
That lives in the shanty
I am four years old today
And shall soon be one and twenty
I shall grow up
And be a great man
And shovel all day
As hard as I can.

Down in the deep cut   
Where the men lived
Who made the Railroad.
For supper
I have some potato
And sometimes some bread
And then if it's cold
I go right to bed.

I lie on some straw
Under my father's coat

My mother does not cry
And my father does not scold
For I am a little Irish Boy
And I'm four years old.