Stephen James Smith - My Ireland

My Ireland, you are the river rush
Always fluid in flux in need of a little hush
My Ireland is talking to itself
But so busy listening to Joe
It's not hearing anything!
My Ireland is saying 'Grá go deo agus sláinte Diageo'
My Ireland is Reeling in the Years
And not watching what's happening now
While so many are reining in the tears
And trying to cope somehow
My Ireland is terrified of leaving the immersion on
And lamenting not having won the Eurovision
In God only knows how long
My Ireland loves laughing at Ó Briain and Norton
My Ireland is sending gifs and emojis
While waiting for absolution
My Ireland needs a vision, an aisling
To move on from bacon and cabbage
Potatoes, leprechauns and jaysis Mrs Brown's Boys!
My Ireland is checking itself
After a queen's Nobel Call
And in Dublin Castle heard
A Úachtaráin agus a chairde from auld Lizzy
My Ireland is dizzy from misinformation
And celebrations arising from The Proclamation
My Ireland wonders if it's a sovereign people
Still under the shadow of a steeple?
My Ireland constantly asks:
'Was it for this?' and
An bhfuil cead agam dul go dtí an leithreas?
My Ireland is Zig and Zag and top shelf mags
Pearse lonely as an old woman defiant in defeat
My Ireland is a white flag and Elizabeth O'Farrell's feet
My Ireland is Savita needing agency
The Magdalene Laundries
My Ireland is hysterical and in denial of being patriarchal
My Ireland didn't Wake the Feminists
Queen Maeve was an early riser
My Ireland you are
Cumann na mBan praying to St Brigid
Ireland playing frigid Naysayers and Peig Sayers
My Ireland is still Hailing Mary Mother of Grace
And here's to you Mrs Robinson thanks for the embrace
My Ireland wishes Grace O'Malley our Pirate Queen
Could've been out at Shell to Sea
My Ireland is cherishing anything
From an Instagram snap of a ham and cheese toasty
To finding the right filter for taking that selfie
My Ireland is rich land dressed by Penneys
My Ireland is The Quiet Man
And Waterford Whispers shouting for us all
My Ireland isn't sure what to do about water charges
But needs someone to take the fall
My Ireland
You are the river rush of the Corrib
Nore
Foyle
Suir
Shannon
Lagan
Liffey, Lee
And every tributary
Wash over me
Wash over me
Wash over me
My Ireland should learn from its rivers and burst its banks
My Ireland needs to go back to the source
The initial trickle, a spring and tickle out its flow
My Ireland needs to let go
My Ireland saw Sinéad ripping up the Pope
And isn't able to cope
So we've Pieta House, Apollo House, Pelican House
For our new age blood sacrifice and ghost estates
My Ireland doesn't know what a tracker mortgage is
And is hoping it's not too late
My Ireland sees goodness
In the kindness of its people everyday
Which bonds us just enough to get by
My Ireland's sense of community isn't ready to die
My Ireland celebrates the underdog
Who 'Pull Like a Dog'
'We're not here to take part, we're here to take over!'
My Ireland you are
The Guildford Four
Rossport Five
Birmingham Six
Traveling people and forgotten demographics
My Ireland is a terrible beauty
Agus mol an óige agus tiocfaidh sí
My Ireland knows
'When all the others were away at Mass'
There was The Meeting on the Turret Stairs
My Ireland can let go of all its cares
It has the arts
We've The Salmon of Knowledge
And blistered hearts
My Ireland has warriors like
Damien Dempsey singing 'Colony'
And Katie Taylor knocking out misogyny
My Ireland doesn't forget to pour a sup for the fairies
And our women's fairy tales sail to Holyhead
My Ireland
You are the river rush of the Corrib
Nore
Foyle
Suir
Shannon, Lagan, Liffey, Lee
And every tributary
Wash over me
Wash over me
Wash over me
My Ireland can be hard to take
Asks, 'Did St Patrick banish all the snakes?'
My Ireland is the Children of Lir, Tír na nÓg
A herd of deer and a Connacht brogue
My Ireland is singing
Óró sé do bheatha abhaile
While the Eastern Europeans are coming
The Africans are coming
The Muslims are coming
Can we not all just come together?
My Ireland, you are the National Stud
My Ireland you are
Four Green Fields and a clover
Transgender
Other
Othered
He
She
Non-defined
Unexplained
Yet to emerge
Fluid queers
My Ireland may be drunk on 800 years
My Ireland is the undocumented
And eighty million worldwide
Failte them abhaile
Open your arms
Do you care about your diaspora?
My Ireland is West Brits, expats, immigrants
Shane McGowan, Tipp via London Town
Ireland you are
The Kilburn Road, Ellis Island
Boston, To Hell or Connacht
Dubai, Oz and Canada
Skyping to your Da and Ma
My Ireland's calling Tiocfaidh ár lá!
My Ireland is pulling the Aran wool over the Yankee eyes
While thanking its bus drivers since 1916
My Ireland is worried
That Dustin the Turkey and The Rubberbandits
Deserve more plaudits for speaking the truth
My Ireland is fearful of the litigious
My Ireland is a religious delirious crowd
And Synging playboys in a post-truth western world
My Ireland is full of notions
Revelations framed in song
And the constellations of a plough
Under which we all belong
My Ireland is Gerard Donnelly resting in the Phoenix Park
As Wellington's obelisk looms in the dark
My Ireland is Glendalough, Lough Derg
Skirmishes, Skellig Islands and Star Wars
My Ireland
You are the river rush of the Corrib
Nore
Foyle
Suir
Shannon
Lagan, Liffey, Lee
And every tributary
Wash over me
Wash over me
Wash over me
My Ireland, oh my
You are Omagh!
Danny Boy in Loftus Road
Good Friday
Bloody Sunday
An island in Trouble in shock
Caught in the crosshairs of a Glock
My Ireland is Tír gan teanga
Tír gan anam
And hiding ammunition
You are white in division
All sides aiming for some Union
My Ireland
You are a Peace Bridge in Stroke City
A battle for some
The Battle of Somme
A Rising
A Lily
A Poppy
A speech at Woodenbridge
Others talkin' of leaching on Jobsbridge
Ireland is feidir linn
Oh yes we can, oh no you can't
My Ireland's a Gaiety panto
My Ireland's got the fear
Wondering why are we here?
Looking for a pot of gold
Under the Cliffs of Moher
My Ireland's postmodern
Self aware, more than a list poem
Wandering like Bloom
Through the Slieve Bloom and Mourne Mountains
My Ireland is Carrickfergus, Carrickmines
The Ring of Kerry, Boyne Valley
Bunclody, Enniscorthy
My Ireland you are
Waterways, wildlife, curlew
You are a seanchaí lament
A Celtic Phoenix
Perpetual hubris
Ireland you're not one to complain
Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin
My Ireland is
Taking the soup
Dropping the 'O'
Do you feel emancipated?
My Ireland you are
Bosco knocking on a magic door
Zebo and the Haka in Thomond Park
You are Birdsong from a Lark
Fenians, farmers, freemasons
Executions at Kilmainham Jail
You are UN peacekeeping
And speaking of The Pale
After kissing the Blarney Stone
My Ireland, wherever you roam
You are always a Paddy, a Biddy, a Mick
Hailing from a Banana Republic
My Ireland is getting the ride in Copper Face Jacks
And made Big Jack an honorary Irishman
My Ireland is Anglo Irish
And playing GAA for the parish
My Ireland is Glenroe and Joanne O'Riordan
My Ireland you are
And aren't the Vitruvian male
And you're up for sale at the right price
My Ireland
Is the lovely girls at the Rose of Tralee
Mount Rose and TV3
My Ireland will gobble you up
It's obsessed with Clonakilty black pudding
Superquinn sausages
Bottom feeders
Hunger Strikes
1798 and pikes
Black and Tans
Yips and yurts
Scapegoats, drive-bys
Fiscal crisis, Jesus, ISIS
The Irish Elk, Ireland help!
Ireland, viral, Titanic, epidemic
From Normans to Neither/Norism
My Ireland is Archbishop Charles McQuaid
Enough said!
My Ireland
You are the river rush of the Corrib
Nore
Foyle, Suir, Shannon
Lagan, Liffey, Lee
And every tributary
Wash over me
Wash over me
Wash over me
My Ireland has erased The Famine
The Great Hunger, the Emergency
Let's not write our epitaph until we're all free
My Ireland had a Centenary and got D.P
My Ireland couldn't look its signatories in the eye
My Ireland's Ditties and songs
Sure we'll all sing along while Louis Walsh looms
And wooden spoons cause national trauma
My Ireland is saying RIP Billo
And knows Dunphy's a spoofer
My Ireland's trying to survive on the dole
And livin' off of chicken fillet rolls
My Ireland you are
Happy Pears and Apple accounts
Ireland, you are still living in the past
How long can this last?
Ireland
Do you even understand Peadar Kearney's words?
Ireland invented by Declan Kiberd
Revived by Lady Gregory
Wants a portrait from Colin Davidson
But is scared of what it'll see
Ireland you are
You're some woman's yellow hair
Marty Morrissey's hair
EU fishing quotas
Bankers' bonuses
Paddy Clarke Ha Ha, Enya
Eircodes, uilleann pipes
NAMA and the HSE
A biscuit and stout industry
Riverdance, the Walls of Limerick
Private islands, apologies
Bog Poems, Blackberry-Picking, fermenting
Wild Geese, Web Summits, Harps
Jimmy X, All Kinds of Everything
Caught in a whirlpool spin
You are part of the world
Look out
And look within
Mise Éire, Ireland, Hibernia
You are all this
You are all this and more!
My Ireland
You are trying to be all encompassing
And it's an impossible task
So I ask you
'What's your My Ireland?'
Ireland, are you evolving
Arising, an aisling
Remembering
Ireland arise!
Ireland from what I've heard
A great compassion is calling you
You have a teanga so add your voice
Ireland, from what I know
A great courage is in you
So stand united rejoice
Go back to the source, the flow
Forget mainstream
Let out a roar, I want to hear you scream
'This Ireland is my land
This Ireland is your land
This island is our land'
And know I love you
And know I love you
I love you
Sin é!
I'm trying to listen
So what have you got to say?
My Ireland
You are the river rush of the Corrib
Nore
Foyle, Suir, Shannon
Lagan, Liffey, Lee
And every tributary
Wash over me
Wash over me
Wash over you
Wash over us

Written by:
Eithne Ní Chatháin, Stephen Smith

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find