Good lord, above, Alison … but I'm getting the hots for you big time, so I am. I'm only after making up this wee song for ye. Would it tempt ye to come visit me in me lonely vigil on Drumcree hill. Mine's the big frame tent on top o' the hill, orange (naturally), with a pair of Union Jack boxer shorts flyin' from the top o' it.

The wee verse is to the tune of a Donegal march called "Kitty O'Connor", which Altan play as part of a set with that fine oul' Scottish tune "Cam' Ye By Atholl". (There ye go, nigh! Ye didn't think I had any knowledge of thon sort of music, did ye? Well let's keep it a wee secret between ourselves …)

By the way ... that lol thing ... I'll go one better. Here goes. lol rbp. D'ye get me?

Once a fenian filly
Took a shine to this oul' Billy
Who lived out on a hilly
Overlooking Portydown
He spurned all her advances
Didn't like oul' mixed romances
Till at last the circumstances
Fairly brought him roun'

She dressed up like a billy girl
It fairly made his baton whirl
And his oul banner did unfurl
And his arch fair straightened out
And on his fife she played a tune
"The Rising of the Fenian Moon"
It nearly made oul' Isaac swoon
And his eyeballs to pop out