Irish traditional song lyrics — collected by Beer Belly Band.
There was a man come frae the North his name was Jim McKay
He’s left his hame in Achnabad his fortune for to try
Jimma a timma a too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ra Jimma a timma a too-ra-lay
He’s labored wi’ the forestry he’s labored wi’ the land
But after all his toil was done there was nothing in his hand—Jimma a timma…etc…etc…
So he’s gone oot to Westerross the shores of Loch Kishorn
Where the Sunday best was put to rest and the Ninian rig was born—Jimma a timma…etc…
Where the hammers ring and the rivets sing sleeps a mans best friends
The shuttering doors and the concrete pours and blasts for days on end—Jimma a timma…etc…
At the building of the mighty rig he’s grafted two long years
Wi’ the International Brigade he sweated blood and tears—Jimma a timma…etc…
And when the platform floated out all the work was done
He’s gone to weld the pipeline in the land o’ the Midnight Sun—Jimma a timma…etc…
While back at home in Achnabad Fiona sits alone
She’s waiting for depression days to send her Jimmy home—Jimma a timma…etc…
Ah Fiona dear, Fiona dear, will you wait for me
For I’ve trained to be a diver in the wild and the wintery sea—Jimma a timma…etc…
Ach! Jimmy, dearest Jimmy, tae the North Sea Dinna gang
For I’ve had the strangest dream last night something would go wrang—Jimma a timma…etc…
For the North Sea is a temptress a widow maker she
She’s courted many’s a bonnie lad wi’ tears of treachery—Jimma a timma…etc…
Ah Fiona dear, Fiona dear, don’t you grieve for me
I’m following the money lass and the divin’ game’s for me—Jimma a timma…etc…
The divin’ bell it rose and fell it had a two man crew
There was Jim McKay from Achnabad, Pierre from Fontainebleau—Jimma a timma…etc…
What happened underneath rig nane can tell for sure
But they heard the bell man shout, “It’s Turned” then they heard no more—Jimma a timma…etc…
It was on a Monday afternoon young Jim McKay was killed
He was murdered by the very rig he had helped to build—Jimma a timma…etc…