Roll up ! Roll up. Get your incomprehensible rambling Irishman here. 
I tell you what ladies, not only does he make no sense at all, but he sings ! It’s true ! Not in your conventional ‘melodious words flowing out to lift your heart’ kind of way, but in a gravel gargling, toothless mumbling sort of way. So how much will you give me for this worn out shambling wreck of a musician ? Do I hear one hundred pounds ?
FOUR POUND FIFTY ? You’re havin’ a laugh ain’t you mate ?
Ah go on on then. I’m me own worst enemy sometimes I tell you.

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