Joyce of the Market

06 Joyce of the MarketThe Pinkerettes
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You were once called a country of potato diggers

And most of your fun was drinking and cattle raids.

Your cycle of life was suffering, endurance, destruction

And coffin ships sailing across the great sea.

 

Like Polish folk you fought against your opressor

But your blunderbuss was helpless against the red coats

And like Polish folk you caught the patriotic virus

And you have your worthies burried in Pere Lachese.

 

But your bondage drowned in the Irish sea

And the shamrock now reigns imperial

And because you traded the Scotch for double Irish

You are tycoons of the Western world

You’ve eaten the salmon of knowledge and ingested the oil

And you hardened your tormented Joyce into the joys of the market.

 

No longer druids, but an island of saints and scholars

Like Polish folk you put on the popish cloak

You had your country governed by encyclicals

And bishop McQuaid trying to stop a football match.

 

One of your parties even got excommunicated

And your men of the cloth were bringing governments down

Like Polish Commies your Church had a „special position”

Under your own not so romantic 44.

 

But then your daily mores were decriminalised

And the Irish harp now sings of freedom

And corporate  horns are blaring Resurrection

And the migrant tide is turning back

You’ve eaten the salmon of knowledge and ingested the oil

And you hardened your tormented Joyce into the joys of the market.