Padraig Mcbride Poem by Daniel McDonagh

In the old Garngad there lived a man
Who prayed day and night to God,
As a pint of Guinness was for medicinal purposes
If only he had a few bob,
He prayed to God to bless the Celtic
And for St.Michael to protect Jock Stein
For every Saturday, he would walk to Paradise
To see the bhoys in green.

Chorus
Padraig McBride, he had no wife, but the Celtic were his love
If he wasn’t down at Celtic Park, he was found in the Glenbarr Pub,
He seemed to have lived for a 100 years traveling back and forth to Paradise
And the Garngad Irish mourned for a fortnight, when old Padraig died.

His house was covered in pictures
Of the Celtic and the Virgin Mary
As the parish priest, with McBride once a week,
Shared a glass or two of whiskey
They spoke often and reminisced
About all the Celtic greats
Who like McBride, and had traveled before him,
Along the famous Gallowgate.

Padraig McBride, he had no wife, but the Celtic were his love
If he wasn’t down at Celtic Park, he was found in the Glenbarr Pub,
He seemed to have lived for a 100 years traveling back and forth to Paradise
And the Garngad Irish mourned for a fortnight, when old Padraig died.

In the summer months he would journey home
Across the Irish Sea
To find himself a pretty wife
From all the young colleens
But none would come forth willing,
As Glasgow seemed a million miles away
None found the passion and faith
When he spoke of the Glasgow Celtic way

Chorus
Padraig McBride, he had no wife, but the Celtic were his love
If he wasn’t down at Celtic Park, he was found in the Glenbarr Pub,
He seemed to have lived for a 100 years traveling back and forth to Paradise
And the Garngad Irish mourned for a fortnight, when old Padraig died.

And when the summer months came closing,
He bid farewell to old Ireland
But promised to return next year
When Celtic were league champions,
And when the ferry docked, back to the Garngad,
He raced like a prize winning greyhound
For he could not dare miss a Celtic game
That was played at the Holy Ground.

Chorus
Padraig McBride, he had no wife, but the celtic were his love
If he wasn’t down at Celtic Park, he was found in the Glenbarr Pub,
He seemed to have lived for a 100 years traveling back and forth to Paradise
And the Garngad Irish mourned for a fortnight, when old Padraig died.