Friday, March 16, 2007

Erin go braughless

Happy St. Paddy's, kids. I don't know what's put me on such a lyrical drinking bent, but here's another one that never fails to make me smile.

This is from the crazy hep cats of DaVinci's Notebook and is called "Another Irish Drinking Song." If you want to hear it in all it's four part harmonious glory, try the link here. Oh, and Enormous Penis is there as well which is so good it can't even be played on the radio now.

Another Irish Drinking Song


Gather 'round, ye lads and lasses, set ye for a while,
And harken to me mournful tale about the Emerald Isle.
Let's all raise our glasses high to friends and family gone
And lift our voices in another Irish drinking song.

Consumption took me mother and me father got the pox.
Me brother drank the whiskey 'til he wound up in a box.
My other brother in the Troubles met with his demise.
My sister has forever closed her smiling Irish eyes.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
And then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Kenny was killed in Kilkenny and Claire, she died in Clare.
Tip from Tipperary died out in the Derry air.
Shannon jumped into the River Shannon back in June
Ernie fell into the Erne, and Tom is in the tomb.

"Cleanliness is godliness" me Uncle Pat would sing.
He broke his neck a'slippin' on a bar of Irish Spring.
O'Grady, he was 80 though his bride was just a pup,
He died upon the honeymoon when she got his Irish up.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Joe Murphy fought with Reilly near the cliffs of old Doneen.
He took out his shillelagh and he stabbed him in the spleen.
Crazy Uncle Mike believed he was a leprechaun.
In fact he's just a leper and his arms and legs are gone.

When Timmy Johnson broke his neck it was a cryin' shame.
He wasn't really Irish, but he went to Notre Dame.
McNamara crossed the street and by a bus was hit
But he was just a Scotsman, so no one gave a shit.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
And then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again,

Me drunken Uncle Brendan tried to drive home from the bar.
The road rose up to meet him when he fell out of his car.
Irony was what befell my great-grand Uncle Sam.
He choked upon the very last potato in the land.

Conor lived in Ulster town, he used to smuggle arms.
Until the British kjilled him and cut off his lucky charms.
And dear old Father Flanagan, who left the lord's employ,
Drunk on sacramental wine, beneath the altar boy.

Now everybody's died.
So until our tears are dried,
We'll drink and drink and drink and drink,
and then we'll drink some more.
We'll dance and sing and fight
Until the early morning light.
Then we'll throw up, pass out, wake up,
And then go drinking once again.

Someday soon I'll leave this world of pain and toil and sin.
The Lord will take me by the hand to join all of me kin.
Me only wish is when the Savior comes for me and you,
He kills the cast of Riverdance, and Michael Flatley too.

Wife and I will probably just have a Guinness. Well, another Guinness, watch The Matchmaker and hope for a win from the Good Guys in Green.

1 comment:

Iwanski said...

Tremendous. Bravo.