“Fergie McCormack,” sung by Daoirí Farrell and written by Marcus Turner, is a darkly comic folk ballad that twists heroism into absurdity. The song tells of a fire in a tall building where a woman, trapped with her baby, refuses to jump. Amid the panic, Fergie McCormack—a rugby player—steps forward and persuades her to throw him the child. He catches the baby safely, to the crowd’s delight, but in a shocking and humorous turn, his sporting instincts take over: he performs “a swift up-and-under” and kicks the baby “forty metres to touch.”
The song’s humour lies in this abrupt shift from tragedy to farce. Farrell delivers it with the lively rhythm of a traditional Irish ballad, making the macabre twist even more striking. Beneath the comedy, the story satirizes how societies glorify heroes and blur the lines between courage, reflex, and performance. Fergie’s act, both brave and ridiculous, exposes the tension between genuine heroism and the instinct for spectacle. Like much of the folk tradition, the tale blends myth, morality, and irony—reminding listeners that even the most heroic legends can end in folly, and that laughter often lurks where solemn praise is expected.
Here's a very old recording of Daori made in Germany by a friend of mine:
{t:Fergie McCormack}
{st:Daoiri Farrell}
Capo 3
Oh [D]Fergie McCormack was walking one [G]day
When he [D]noticed a building on [G]fire
And the [D]screams of a lady could plainly be [G]heard
As the [D]building it smoldered even [A]higher
Oh the [G]trembling [D]lady was [G]clutching a [D]baby
And the [D]building was ten stories [G]high
It could [D]plainly be seen that both she and her [G]baby
Were [D]certainly [A]doomed for to [D]die
Well the [D]firemen were there with their ropes and big [G]ladders
And they were [D]holding a big trampo[G]line
They were [D]trying to entice this young lady to [G]jump
But [D]indeed she wasn't very [A]keen
For her [G]baby was too [D]small to [G]survive such a [D]fall
And [D]she then refused to let [G]go
Oh, well [D]what could they do? They were all in a [G]stew
As they [D]helplessly [A]gazed from be[D]low
Well [D]along came a hero, bold Fergie Mc[G]Cormack
Says he, “[D]Throw your baby to [G]me!”
"[D]Indeed I will catch it, and from death I will [G]snatch it"
"And [D]safe in me arms he will [A]be”
Oh his [G]masculine [D]arms and the [G]big fullback's [D]charms
Laid [D]down all this young lady's [G]fears
As she [D]cried, “Bless you Fergie!”, she tossed her baby [G]over
The [D]side as her [A]eyes filled with [D]tears
Well the [D]rest of the story can long be [G]remembered
In [D]history throughout all the [G]land
As that [D]baby came down and the crowd gathered [G]round
Oh it [D]landed safely in Fergie's [A]arms
“Oh, he's [G]rescued the [D]child!” said the [G]crowd going [D]wild
But the [D]excitement was clearly too [G]much
As they [D]all gazed in wonder, with a swift up-and-[G]under
He [D]kicked forty [A]meters to [D]touch
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