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A Pint Of Guinness Please


So this is Dublin city I’m truly not impressed

Here in Temple Bar with my pint against my chest

Tourists choke the sessions and boredom eats the band

I’d rather be in Ste. Chappelle or my home and native land


Stone walls and sheep and cows from Blooms’s to the Cliffs of Moher

There’s gaily painted cottages in Wicklow and Liscannor

We drove through Kilmegranny we walked the Liffey quays

And the one thing you can count on is a pint of Guinness please


Yes Mr. Heaney I made the trip to Clare

But I couldn’t see the laggy shore for all the Germans there

But there’s sea enough to drown a man and crosses every mile

Trees enough to hang him and pints to make him smile


There’s Weetabix and pork from the Burren to St. James’ Gate

We smashed a hired car and Bulmer’s cider’s great

There’s words upon the water and airs in all the trees

And the one thing you can count on is a pint of Guinness please


Balls Bunratty castle I wish I never came

Fat Italian school boys know your dirty name

But I’m looking for a shamrock on an Irish flag

Carried by a leperechaun in a sheepskin bag


Give us a glass of cider and give us a pint of stout

And listen to old Jim McCann lash a few songs out

A few days in the country a lifetime still to come

And the narrow road to Glendalough could use a little sun


Dublin’s fair city has changed since I have been

I think I’ll miss the Liffey and Grafton and Henry Street

As the plane begins to taxi I see the Wicklow hills

I never found those sessions Paddy I guess I never will

© Michael Worthington Music 2001

Just what it sounds like.  Still trying to keep up with big brother.  From 2001's WHACK(!) by The John Smiths.

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