Well I'm the Emerald Isle's own son,
I was born on stateside, Wisconsin.
And your troubles sound like Hollywood,
They sound real good to me.
The rush to be Irish now is on,
The queue is standing ten miles long,
And would-be green men stand in line,
To swap their stories tall.
Well I have traced my past right back,
I've even checked and double checked,
And I'm as sure as ever now that I'm a leprechaun.
And I know that if I get my chance,
That I can jig, and reel, and dance,
Cuz in between the killing that's what all us Irish do.
AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR;
"Eat up all our TV dinner,
Open up your wallet wide,
And let your green be seen."
A people cannot live that way,
Or so the songs and leaflets say,
And all this time we're trying hard,
To keep the niggers down.
What with collection time and all,
With charities, functions and balls,
It really gives me such a thrill,
To kill from far away."
Writer(s): Burgess, Coulter
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