[Verse 1: Celtic-rock male lead, roaring, fiddle reel] Sunday on the Bandon road, the hedges full of men Twenty-eight ounces of iron in my fist again Two miles of narrow tarmac windin' to the cross Fewest throws will take it and the Murphys never lost Bets go in a flat cap that is passed along the ditch Every fiver on the Murphys and not one on me, the pity I spit into my palm and I take my little run Loft it past the first bend, and the day has just begun [Chorus: Celtic-rock male lead, full-throated, bodhran and galloping kick] Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through Over ditch and over gate and over you Every corner on this road knows what I can do Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through [Verse 2: Celtic-rock male lead, ripping guitar] Murphys at the creamery and they're two throws to the good I'm three behind and laughin' like I always knew I would Then a squad car rolls up with the blue lights goin' round Young Garda Kelleher says, "Lads, this game is shut down" It's against the law to bet upon a public lane He looks into the cap, then he looks at it again "Who's throwin' next?" he says, and I put up my hand He drops a twenty in the cap, says, "On him, understand?" [Chorus: Celtic-rock male lead, full-throated, bodhran and galloping kick] Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through Over ditch and over gate and over you Every corner on this road knows what I can do Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through [Bridge: Celtic-rock male lead, reel sprint, the fiddle racing faster with the bowl] Spin it off the stone wall, spin it past the cows Garda on the bonnet shoutin', "Now, boy, now!" Round the church and past the school and down the hill Murphys runnin' after it and it's rollin' still Faster, faster, fiddle, follow where it goes Every hedge in Cork is roarin' and the whole road knows [Verse 3: Celtic-rock male lead, roaring, galloping kick] Last throw at the crossroads and I need it clean in one Murphys smokin' by the line, they think the day is won I loft it over the hedge with everything I had Down the hill it hops and skips like a runaway lad Bounces off the squad car and it rolls across the line Kelleher throws his hat up, says, "That's legal, that's fine!" [Chorus: Celtic-rock male lead, full-throated, bodhran and galloping kick] Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through Over ditch and over gate and over you Every corner on this road knows what I can do Clear the way, the bowl is comin' through [End]
