Happy F%$&ing Saint Patrick’s Day To All…

Guinness is Gaelic For Genius, you know. So drink to superior intelligence and listen to the Pogues and BLACK 47.

Here’s some lyrics about Michael Collins:

THE BIG FELLAH

Mo chara is mo lao thu!

My friend and my calf

Is aisling trí néallaibh

A vision in dream

Do deineadh ar&eacuteir dom

Was revealed to me last night

IgCorcaigh go déanach

In Cork, a late hour,

Ar leaba im aonar

In my solitary bed

I remember you back in the GPO with Connolly and Clarke

Laughin’ with McDermott through the bullets and the sparks

Always with the smart remark, your eyes blazin’ and blue

But when we needed confidence we always turned to you

And when they shot our leaders up against Kilmainham wall

You were there beside us in that awful Easter dawn

Hey, big fellah……….where the hell are you now

When we need you the most

Hey, big fellah……….c’mon

Tabhair dom do lámh

Give me your hand

Back on the streets of Dublin when we fought the black and tans

You were there beside us, a towerin’ mighty man

And God help the informer or the hated English spy

By Jaysus, Mick, you’d crucify them without the blinkin’ of an eye

Still you had a heart as soft as the early mornin’ dew

Every widow, whore and orphan could always turn to you

We beat them in the cities and we whipped them in the streets

And the world hailed Michael Collins, our commander and our chief

And they sent you off to London to negotiate a deal

And to gain us a republic, united, boys, and real

But the women and the drink, Mick, they must have got to you

‘Cause you came back with a country divided up in two