​John Riley came from Galway Town in the years of the Irish hunger
And he sailed away to Amerikay when the country was much younger . . .
The land was strange and work was scarce, and all he knew was farming
So, he followed his other Irish friends to a job in the U. S. Army

Adventure calls and some men run
And this is their sad story
Some get drunk on demon rum
And some get drunk on glory

They marched down Texas way to the edge of the Rio Grande
And they built a fort on the banks above to taunt old Santa Annay
They were treated bad and paid worse, and then the fighting started
And the more they fought the less they thought of the damned old U S Army

Adventure calls and some men run
And this is their sad story
Some get drunk on demon rum
And some get drunk on glory

The church bells rang on a Sunday morn it set his soul a- shiver
Saw the senoritas washing their hair on the far side of the river
Then John Riley and 200 more Irish mercenaries
Cast their lot, right or not, south of the Rio Granday

Adventure calls and some men run
And this is their sad story
Some get drunk on demon rum
And some get drunk on glory

They fought bravely under the flag of the San Patricios
Till the Yankee soldiers beat them down at the battle of Churubusco
Then 15 men were whipped like mules, on their cheeks had a hot iron branded
They had to dig the graves of 50 more who a hanging fate had handed

Adventure calls and some men run
And this is their sad story
Some get drunk on demon rum
And some get drunk on glory

Now John Riley stands and drinks alone at a bar in Vera Cruz,
And he wonders if it matters much if you win or if you lose
"I'm a man who can't go home, I'm a vagabond," says he,
"I'm a victim of some wanderlust and divided loyalty."

Adventure calls and some men run
And this is their sad story
Some get drunk on demon rum
And some get drunk on glory