Saint Bridget, deliver us to Beekman Place Away from the wicked and depraved A gray head is peaking through the curtain lace Calling "come, ye, inside, where you'll be saved" She's baked him a cherry pie and glazed a ham Her dear arms reach out for his embrace So if you have pity on this poor lost lamb God love you, dear Saint Bridget, deliver us to Beekman Place! Sing with me, Patrick, it'll keep up your courage So if you have pity on this poor lost sheep God love you, dear Saint Bridget, deliver us to Beekman Place!