OULD IRELAND'S LAMENT, words by Big Tim, written this morning, tune "Men of the West", etc


It's the year three thousand and forty, the Ould Belgian Empire is gone,
But the Troubles in Ould Northern Ireland are of course still rumbling on,
A bomb goes off in the Bogside, a Catholic's found dead in a field,
And Ould Ireland still shouts from the sidelines "our brave boys they never will yield"

"Forget not the Boys of Kilmichael, forget not Prosisional Dail,
Forget not the Battle of Antrim, nor the Border that runs through the Foyle,
Forget not the Walls of Ould derry, forget not the Dolly's Brae fight,
To Ould Ireland just you pay attention, you know it's the cause of The Right"

Ould Ireland shouts "lop of the 'London', give us back 'Doire' instead,
Forget about peace and employment, we much prefer living in dread,
In a wasteland that's governed by gangsters, like Bould Ould Johnny Adair,
Ould Ireland says, "long may they flourish, we prefer them to your Tony Blair"

It's now four thousand and forty, a new Belfast Agreement's in place,
But Ould Ireland is still loudly screaming "it's all just a bloody disgrace-
We Catholics demand compensation, our fair share of Ould British Coin,
For Famine and Ulster Plantation, for Aughrim and Ould Bloody Boyne"

It's now five thousand and forty, Ould Ireland wants new RUC,
And hoary Ould Isaac McKittrick, is still in his tent at Drumcree,
"We've been at it now many long centuries, since before Ould Cromwell was born,
And we'll keep knocking lumps off each other, til Ould Gabriel blows his Ould Horn".