and I pray I never fall in love with you
Take me baby take me away
To a time when all I need is you
While the silver haired gigillo dies
From hip replacement surgery
And the moon shines on a bare ass
Mob of delinquent pensioners singing
The last tunes of franks wild years .
And I’ll try baby I try my best
I’ll rip my soul
Ill take the plunge
I dance the last fan tango
But I think I fell in love again
She’s looking at you
Hard to know
Why is she blind
She has good taste
And a squint
Her hair is nice
Go talk to her
Do you want to dance with the devil in the pale moon light
Your a bit of a joker
I can be if your bat woman
Sit down soldier
Sure rum and coke
I write poems
I read some
Durkin, Heaney and kavanagh
He was a miserable fucker
In a majestic way
Where ever the night leads
No lets just walk
In the moonlight
By the sea
You are a poet
The government doesn’t realise it’s shagged.
The wettest country beside a huge ocean is going to install water meter to charge for the very thing that floods us every year.
We love to complain about the weather.
The guards ( that’s our police ) are bearing lumps out of peaceful protestors. They had to get a loan of the riot gear because Irish people are usually asleep during the whole riot thing
Cows still produce enough Methane gas Ireland to feed all the bullshit in the dail (that’s our parliament. )
Irish girls are still pure gorgeous
Black pudding is one of our national foods.
An Irish man is the president of America once more
Leprechauns are real just like the fairies aka the little people.
Black humour is our passion. Nothing like the craic (that’s fun) at a funeral .
The poitin in the shops is fake But don’t drink the real stuff unless you want to go blind