St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day
by Tom Flannery copyright 2008

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Drink up boyos get your fill
learn to sing while you swill
watch the parade as it lumbers past
'cause Danny Boy don't move too fast
green rivers and quiet men
mighty mystics with the pen
James Joyce and drunken sots
car bombs in parking lots

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may

Returning to the Emerald Isle
travel agent get you there in style
converters for electricity
and a tour bus filled with Japanese
searching for the old homestead
or a red-haired girl who gives good head
new walking stick and the blarney stone
another tourist's cover blown

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may

whiskey in the jar and the wearing of the green
O'Connell Street and the ghost of 1916
Boston and New York City and that great famine lore
the king a filthy murderer and the queen a two bit whore

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may

Deodorant scented like a turf fire
the Hibernians and the Molly Maguire's
"Up the Provos" and counting sheep
until the green hills lull you off to sleep
back home the right side of the road
punching in your security code
toora loora loora toora loora lay
The Kennedy's and the IRA

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may

Ain't it all like Disney World
one day a year the flag's unfurled
and we drink to martyr's dead and gone
and name our kids Liam and Sean
corn beef and cabbage makes us sick
but we force it down with Guinness thick
wake up moaning with an aching head
in some fat Italian's bed

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may

whiskey in the jar and the wearing of the green
O'Connell Street and the ghost of 1916
Boston and New York City and that great famine lore
the king a filthy murderer and the queen a two bit whore

It's St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may
St Patrick's Day in Amerikay
everybody's Irish come what may