Just sit right back and I’ll tell you a tale
about a little known band from down near old Kinsale
They played the locals on the Saturday night
but no matter the tune it never sounded right
Then they saw an ad in the local news
seeking a band for a Caribbean cruise
They looked at each other and said what’s to lose
let’s trade in our wellies for some flip-flop shoes

Down the pub Finn was feelin’ trapped
working nights pulling the tap
When the band was playin’ he come out o’ the bar
and give it his best to be a fiddling star
Well his pints were short and his reels too slow
it wasn’t a loss when he said he’d go
But down the islands he just seemed to know
the way to play and make the music flow

It might have been the rum
It could have been the breeze
Or maybe all the women or the gentle flowing seas
But every night the crowd came to its feet
When they played the reels with a calypso beat

Whistlin’ Joe was a simple man
pushin’ chips from a worn out van
Every Sunday when he knelt to pray
he dreamt of playing with Christie at the point someday
But every time that he took the stage
his innards went into fits of rage
But out on the cruise he earns his wage
whistlin’ at girls half his age

Now Seamus worked delivering the post
it was the soft and cold days he hated most
By Saturday noon he’d walked terribly far
but later that night he’d be playin’ his guitar
His tempo was off and he’d lose the beat
he’d keep on strumming till his hands got weak
But when he plays in the tropical heat
the people listening have to tap their feet

Seamus Finn and Whistlin’ Joe
fell in love and the next thing you know
they were back in Kinsale with three wives in tow
And the Calypso Ceili is a regular show.