alison … I've risen to the challenge … here's the new Boys From The County Armagh. (Prospective tourists to Armagh please take note, the song may have some grounding in reality but Armagh's nowhere near as bleak as I make it out to be!)

Seamus … you may have the nine glens, but in Armagh there's a neuk known as the Montiaghs, where there are seven Derries … Derrymacash, Derryswalls, Derrywogan, Derrypratchett, Derrysallgold, Derrysavalas, Iwishiwasbackhomeinderry.

There's one fair county in Ireland,
The old folks will sing till they're blue
If they took off the rose-tinted glasses
They'd get a far-different view
Cos for bittereness, anger and hatred
You could search over Erin-go-bragh
But the boys that will never be b'aten
Are the boys from the County Armagh

CHORUS
It's my own Irish home (where?)
Far across the foam
Although I've often left it
In foreign lands to roam
No matter where I wander
Through cities near and far
I'll ensure that my travels will keep me
From the county of Armagh

I've travelled through parts of this county
That would strike a dread chill in your heart
On the face of this once pleasant county
They stand like a bloody great wart
That sprawling new town of Craigavon
A hell-hole designed to contain
The ne-er-do-wells of Mid-Ulster
Who'd be better off drowned in a drain

CHORUS

There's drugs and there's hoods and there's chuckies
There's skinheads and proddy death squads
And here in the heart of the county
The two arch-temples of God
And the kerbstones are painted in colours
That transcend the municipal grey
Proclaiming to opposite-footers
You'd better keep out of our way

CHORUS

It's here that you'll find Buckfast victims
Their speech is all sloppy and slurred
They're challenging you to a duel
But of course you can't make out a word
They're not much of a problem when solo
But when they band into a click
They'd think nothing of giving a bottling
Or giving your bollocks a kick

CHORUS

But what of the natural beauty
Of the orchard of Erin's green land?
The shores of the mighty Lough Neagh
And the sweep of the River called Bann?
Well the Lough is a pit of pollution
And in summer with algae it's green
While The Bann is a dirty oul' trickle
No better than a latrine

CHORUS

So how can we gain self-esteem boys
In Lurgan, Armagh Portadown?
Must we be condemned then forever
To wander about with a frown?
But lads, here's a thought to console us
Whenever depression comes round
For all of our failings we'll never
Be Newry in oul' County Down!

CHORUS