History of Ireland, Part 1

Let me tell you the story of a girl called EvaMarried this Norman dude, a.k.a. StrongbowOn their bloody honeymoon, they reached the conclusionThe Gaelic nation is just an illusionJust a bunch of sacrilegious sheep-shaggin’ minionsAt least, that was the English pope’s opinion“Go forth, Strongbow, reform the Irish ChurchAnd if you conquer the country, well such is life.”

The Irish bogtrotters didn’t like this ideaThey had an arcane notion ‘bout the benefits of freedomResisted fiercely with cudgel and spade‘Til they were run off the land by the Papal JihadThose who came to terms with foreign dominationLearned to speak English it beat starvationThe rest humped turf out in the countryDreamed of Riverdance and comin’ prosperity

Sit you down, sit you downLet’s talk about battles lost but never wonThat’s the history of Ireland, Part One.

The years passed by, kings and auld pontiffs too‘Til up in the North arose two men called HughO’Donnell and O’Neill from Donegal and TyroneAsked the King of Spain to kick the English homeBut they got psyched out at the Battle of KinsaleThe Spanish Armada took a dive in the rainO’Neill found Jesus with the Pope in RomeAnd the Brits poisoned Red Hugh’s sangria in Spain

A lot of things happened, I’ll slip over them fastA lot of little battles, guess what? We lost!Let England fight its own wars if you please‘Cause getting Ollie Cromwell pissed off was not a good ideaHe scorched our arses with his burnin’ crossIntroduced us to sectarianismBanished our youth to the Jamaican fieldsThat’s why Bob Marley sings those Gaelic melodies.

But we don’t give up easy, less sense than courageWe backed Jimmy Stewart ‘stead of Willie from OrangeOh, man, that was our biggest mistakeJust think what we could be doin’ todayEvery 12th of July we’d beat the lambeg drumMarchin’ up the Falls to a tum-tum-tumWhile over tn the Shankhill they’d be sayin’ the rosaryListenin’ to us sing the Sash Me Father Wore beforeWe heard all about the French RevolutionYippee! No kings no future!Cut our hair like the citizens in PareeThe Wexford Croppy was like the accessoryBut the traitor’s kiss was our best fashionLord Eddie Fitzgerald got the English hatchetWe followed Father Murphy through hell and high waterInto excommunication on a hill in Enniscorthy.

Then they stuck us with the Penal LawsWhat a break! They hung all our lawyersAnd doctors and teachers and fathers of the churchAnd if they caught you ridin’ they’d steal your auld horse‘Til Randy Dan O’Connell emancipated usBut we didn’t take no time to celebrate becauseBlack ‘47 killed off half of the countrySo we split for Liverpool, Australia and America.

Those of us left were a sad old bunchBeaten down by the state and the churchAfraid of our lives of divine retributionOh, the bishops didn’t want any more of that auld revolutionWhen Charlie Parnell got the drop on GladstoneWe had Home Rule for the takin’But we stabbed him in the back over Catherine O’SheaAnd we’re still feelin’ the pain to this very day.

1916, 1921, you all know the story and I’m sick of goin’ onThis Irish History is just a pain in the arsePoor old James Connolly wouldn’t know what to make of us‘Cause now were Europeans we get our orders form BrusselsDon’t need no more of that Irish Republican muscleThe ghosts of Pearse, Tone, Emmet and McDermottAll waltzin off into a Celtic Tiger sunset

Sit you down, sit you downLet’s talk about battles lost but never wonThat’s the history of Ireland, Part OneAnd we’re still countin’The history of Ireland, Part One

“Time now, gentlemen, please! Ah, come on now, lads…”