Out The Road Lyrics - Chicken Boxer - Gaelic Storm

The crowds and clouds are gathering near, 

Lady Luck is in my ear. 

I've had a couple of jars to ease my mind, 

The score is on and I'm on the line. 

Seven hundred down on ol' Malone, 

If I lose, I'm dead when I get home. 

He's pacing his steps, his ready for his run, 

I'll be up a ton, if I win this one. 

Chorus 

Bring a hat, bring a scarf, 

Bring a brolly, bring a mac, 

Bring a wee drop of goodness, 

And a warm anorak. 

At the side of the road, 

You'd better stand back. 

Let's roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, roll 'em, 

roll 'em 'fore the rain comes in. 

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Car coats, cloth caps, Wellington work boots, 

Red, green, blue and yellow polyester track suits. 

Trailers and the tractors are trying to get through, 

If you're gaggin' for a 'jimmy', the hedge will have to do! 

Chorus 

Hoppin' down the road the cannonball's flyin'. 

Twenty-eight ounces of steel and iron. 

Clouds are here, I'll take that bet; 

The judges and the gypsies are gonna get wet! 

Chorus 

It's chucking down buckets are we gonna keep going? 

Hurley's out ahead, he wants to keep throwing. 

Malone's got to catch up with him somehow, 

I'll be down and out if he quits now. 

Photos 

Up to our necks in the water and mud, 

In the trees there's rumors we're off to the pub. 

Last shot's away, we start to run, 

I hope it's good and I hope I won! 

Chorus