Ballad of William Bloat

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The ballad of William Bloat

In a mean abode on the Shankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat
And he had a wife, the bane of his life
Who always got his goat
So one day at dawn, with her nightdress on
He slit her bloody throat.
With a razor-gash, he settled her hash,
O, never was crime so quick
But the steady drip, on the pillow-slip
Of her life-blood made him sick
And the pool of gore, on the bedroom floor
Grew clotted, cold, and thick.
And yet he was glad that he had done what he had,
When she lay there stiff and still
But a sudden awe of the angry law
Struck his soul with an awful chill
So, to finish the fun so well begun,
He decided himself to kill
He took the sheet off his wife's cold feet,
And twisted it into a rope,
And he hanged himself from the pantry shelf
Twas an easy end, let's hope
With his dying breatrh, in the jaws of death
He solemnly cursed the Pope
But the strangest turn to the whole concern
Is only just beginnin
He went to Hell, but his wife got well
And she's still alive and sinnin
For the razor blade was British made
But the sheet was Belfast linen

Tommy Makem live at the Ulster Hall Belfast with the Clancy Brothers during their re-union concert 1984. Tommy tells a funny story and then launches into the ballad of William Bloat

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Ballad of William Bloat

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