March 18, 2007 - Sunday

March 18, 2007 - Sunday
a dirge

Wot's op wit' de Oirish, 'dis Paddy's day last?
Dey claim t' be green, but generations have past
since dere 'cestors set foot on oisles so plush;
dey strike 'op a smile, an' a warm 'earty blush.

Dey be drinkin' green beer, an singin' loud songs
An beatin' dere chests like de 'Return o' King Kong':
dose long mournful dirges all twangy and winge'n
about dere lass dat just left 'em for a car wit' no engine.

See, when Oi is abroad, Oi could claim to be much:
a bit 'o Trinidad, an' a lot 'o de Dutch.
But rarely I do –de truth be well known–
my claim is Canuck, roight down to de bone.

But dat's jus' because Oi is recently away.
Dese people round 'ere act like dey got 'ere today;
praisin' de glories o' Derry, an de beauty o' Cork,
while dey shovel out blarney wit de end o' dere fork.

An' what's up wit de Oirish an' all Oirish bars,
all o'er de world; roight heres an' out fars?
Dey seem to be churches or consuls o' some koind,
where de Oirish can go an' quick-lose dere moind.

Be youse Black, Muslim, Jewish, Chinese, or Caucasian
youse'll always be Oirish on dat yearly occasion.
E'en dough no shamrocks on yer whole family tree,
de drunk roight beside youse'll find some, you see.

So be sure when youse're chattin' on Patrick's Saint day
Don't ever ask 'em 'ow many generations away
Since last someone stepped on de rich Oirish land,
or youse'll 'ear family 'istory much longer dan planned...