a tale of the Emerald Isle
Irish Geopolitics encapsulated in
Reel. Love it. How about doing 1 for every decling Western Nation sung to their traditional music.
I unironically think that is a great idea for a revue
I agree 💯
You’re getting really good at this shit
Post the transcript - that was a gem!
[Verse]
Begorrah, see the Saxon lord
With noose and lash he'd have us tame
Till blessed praties grace our board
And Irish seed spreads like a flame
In every cot, praise be to fate,
Our sons are born for Erin’s pride.
The landlords curse each mouth they hate,
But priests keep flames of faith alive.
[Bridge]
Let London's wise men wring their hands,
With talk of limits, nature’s plans.
We’ll plant, we’ll fight, we’ll drink 'em dry—
Then stumble laughing toward the sky!
[Chorus]
So breed on, acushla!
And let Saxon pride decay!
Breed on, mavourneen!
Till Erin claims her day!
[Break]
[Verse 2]
Them bloody praties turned to rot,
While plenty ships lay packed in port.
We starved and keened, and all for what?
For England’s feast. May God retort!
We hit their shores, those Yankee streets,
Fresh off the boats like herded swine.
"Go fight," they said, "in Lincoln’s heat—
That nigger war ain’t yours or mine!"
[Bridge 2]
From coffin ships to railroad ties,
Our kind was worked till death or worse.
"Too cheap to keep," they’d sneer, despise
But breed we must, for life's our curse!
[Chorus 2]
So breed on, ya bastards!
This country's ours to claim!
Breed on, and rise up—
We'll snuff the Brahmin flame!
[Instrumental]
[Verse 3]
Now listen here, and listen good
The Irish run this godddamned town
Each precinct, local, brotherhood
Sends cash and guns to Belfast now
The hat goes 'round at Sunday mass
"For the old country's troubles," right?
And out of Boston aid crates pass
that make ol' Maggie shake at night
[Bridge 3]
Big Teddy's got 'em by the throat
Pat Moynihan twists every arm
While Tip O'Neil corrals the vote
Think AIPAC, but with twice the charm
[Chorus 3]
So keep it rolling, fellas!
From Southie to Belfast!
Keep it flowing, buddy boy,
Till John Bull breathes his last!
[Verse 4]
So I'm at this fahking Irish bah
You know? In fahking Dublin town
Some douchebag tech bro, nice new cah,
He says my accent makes him frown
I says, "We kept the faith for yeahs!
You sucked ya freedom from our tit!
But now you treat us like we're queeahs?
You think you're wicked fahkin' lit!"
[Bridge 4]
You bitch-ass trash tax haven whores
And your retahded EU pride
With London barely out the door...
You just let Brussels back inside!
[Chorus 4]
And it's no wonder why!
We took what we could steal!
You faggots stayed behind and starved
It's us who made the deal!
[Spoken Word]
Ya know what? FAHK IT!
You ungrateful pricks
FAHK IT! FAHK IT!
You forgot the last line, “you can go back now, d’famin’s over”.
Irish Geopolitics encapsulated in
Reel. Love it. How about doing 1 for every decling Western Nation sung to their traditional music.
I unironically think that is a great idea for a revue
I agree 💯
You’re getting really good at this shit
Post the transcript - that was a gem!
[Verse]
Begorrah, see the Saxon lord
With noose and lash he'd have us tame
Till blessed praties grace our board
And Irish seed spreads like a flame
In every cot, praise be to fate,
Our sons are born for Erin’s pride.
The landlords curse each mouth they hate,
But priests keep flames of faith alive.
[Bridge]
Let London's wise men wring their hands,
With talk of limits, nature’s plans.
We’ll plant, we’ll fight, we’ll drink 'em dry—
Then stumble laughing toward the sky!
[Chorus]
So breed on, acushla!
And let Saxon pride decay!
Breed on, mavourneen!
Till Erin claims her day!
[Break]
[Verse 2]
Them bloody praties turned to rot,
While plenty ships lay packed in port.
We starved and keened, and all for what?
For England’s feast. May God retort!
We hit their shores, those Yankee streets,
Fresh off the boats like herded swine.
"Go fight," they said, "in Lincoln’s heat—
That nigger war ain’t yours or mine!"
[Bridge 2]
From coffin ships to railroad ties,
Our kind was worked till death or worse.
"Too cheap to keep," they’d sneer, despise
But breed we must, for life's our curse!
[Chorus 2]
So breed on, ya bastards!
This country's ours to claim!
Breed on, and rise up—
We'll snuff the Brahmin flame!
[Instrumental]
[Verse 3]
Now listen here, and listen good
The Irish run this godddamned town
Each precinct, local, brotherhood
Sends cash and guns to Belfast now
The hat goes 'round at Sunday mass
"For the old country's troubles," right?
And out of Boston aid crates pass
that make ol' Maggie shake at night
[Bridge 3]
Big Teddy's got 'em by the throat
Pat Moynihan twists every arm
While Tip O'Neil corrals the vote
Think AIPAC, but with twice the charm
[Chorus 3]
So keep it rolling, fellas!
From Southie to Belfast!
Keep it flowing, buddy boy,
Till John Bull breathes his last!
[Break]
[Verse 4]
So I'm at this fahking Irish bah
You know? In fahking Dublin town
Some douchebag tech bro, nice new cah,
He says my accent makes him frown
I says, "We kept the faith for yeahs!
You sucked ya freedom from our tit!
But now you treat us like we're queeahs?
You think you're wicked fahkin' lit!"
[Bridge 4]
You bitch-ass trash tax haven whores
And your retahded EU pride
With London barely out the door...
You just let Brussels back inside!
[Chorus 4]
And it's no wonder why!
We took what we could steal!
You faggots stayed behind and starved
It's us who made the deal!
[Spoken Word]
Ya know what? FAHK IT!
You ungrateful pricks
FAHK IT! FAHK IT!
You forgot the last line, “you can go back now, d’famin’s over”.