Best thing I’ve heard in a long time, well worth looking at these lads Christy…
Well oft-times we grumble and oft-times we groan,
And oft-times we sit and we whinge and we moan,
Of how our sons and daughters are forced to leave home,
And bid farewell to ould Éireann.
In hundreds and thousands, in gangs and in droves,
They gather their bags and they take to the roads,
In some far distant land there’s a life they are owed,
For you know they won’t get it in Éireann.
Well it’s just a short journey, in the space of one day,
You can find yourself somewhere that’s far far away,
Where the sun often shines and it seldom is grey,
In direct opposition to Éireann.
You can then find a gaff for a couple of quid,
Large, big and comfy, not much rent for to give,
Not a dank one-roomed hovel for one thousand quid,
Like the ones that they rent you in Éireann.
You may talk like a peasant, you may talk like a snob,
But when they hear your brogue well they’ll throw you a job,
You are Gaelic, Exotic, and you’ll make their hearts throb,
Because you come from the land of ould Éireann.
Your people are warriors, your people are Gaels,
You withstood the Empire with your old ancient ways,
You survived the famine, you’ve seen some dark days,
Let’s drink to the health of ould Éireann.
Oh life can be easy, life can be a sport,
Set up in the New World with the golden passport,
Free drinks and kudos your eternal reward,
But your heart sinks when you think on Éireann.
For you miss all the slagging, and for Jaysus’ sake,
The hot bowls of coddle that your ma used to make,
And the misdirected respect you find hard to take,
For your only ashamed of ould Éireann.
Where the people are weak, and the people are spent,
Running in circles ’til their legs they are bent,
Lamenting the price of the petrol and rent,
We are slow to learn in ould Éireann.
And the green rag all tied round our ears and our eyes,
It stops us from telling the truth from the lies,
For competitional patience we’d win the first prize,
For we’re too easy going in Éireann.
Where politicians and bankers they do as they please,
The pennies in our hands they laugh as they seize,
And the people are happy to remain on their knees,
And beg for the scraps in ould Éireann.
We uphold the cult of the canny cute hoor,
Who steals from the mouths of the sick and the poor,
These charlatans, knaves, three-card trick men and boors,
Are running the show in ould Éireann
With their cheap talk they fooled us, we were sold, we were had!
They led us up the path and they took us to bed,
They bent us right over, punched us in the head,
And they took us right up the ould Éireann.
We awake in the mornings with heads that are sore,
In the Dáil sit the pimps, we are the whores,
We cannot lie back and take this anymore,
Things must come to a head in ould Éireann!
So if you find yourself in Australia or Amerikay,
And they drink to ould Éireann, well what can you say?
That your people aren’t warriors, your people aren’t saints,
And we’ve an undeserved high reputation?
Its not too late to fight back and these tyrants eject,
Take back what’s ours from these primates erect,
Our purpose, our life, our own self-respect,
Then you’d have something to be proud of in Éireann.
good post Dylan…I been listening to Lynched fora few years now and heartily recommend the work..some tasty parodies in their back catalogue too…hope to hear them again soon
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