The Luck of the Irish

If you had the luck of the Irish

You’d be sorry and wish you were dead

You should have the luck of the Irish

And you’d wish you was English instead!

A thousand years of torture and hunger

Drove the people away from their land

A land full of beauty and wonder

Was raped by the British brigands! God  damn! God  damn!

If you could keep voices like flowers

There’d be shamrock all over the world

If you could drink dreams like Irish streams

Then the world would be high as the mountain of morn

In the ‘Pool they told us the story

How the English divided the land

Of the pain and the death and the glory

And the poets of auld Eireland

If we could make chains with the morning dew

The world would be like Galway Bay

Let’s walk over rainbows like leprechauns

The world would be one big Blarney stone

Why the hell are the English there anyway?

As they kill with God on their side

Blame it all on the kids in the IRA

As the bastards commit genocide! Aye! Aye! Genocide!

If you had the luck of the Irish

You’d be sorry and wish you were dead

You should have the luck of the Irish

And you’d wish you was English instead!

Yes, you’d wish you was English instead!