The Mannions were exploring their roots today at an Irish Fest at a park the next county over. There was music, of course. A group singing the old songs and songs that weren't so old but sounded like they were. Being Irish, many of the songs had melancholy themes and tragic subjects and they would break your dear old mother's heart if she heard them. I am not sufficiently Irish to enjoy them the way a good son of the ould sod should and whenever I know I'm going to be someplace where I'll have to listen to tin whistles, bodrhans, and high-pitched quavering voices I start singing to myself my favorite old Irish ballad, which I learned from an episode of Cheers:
They broke into our Dublin home,
The dirty English dogs,
They took away my sister,
And they beat my dad with logs.
Limey scum, Limey scum!
I toss a bomb and still they come...
The blonde doesn't like it when I sing this. She says it's because I sing it 50 times before I give it up, but it's really her Irish chauvinism. She thinks the song is a travesty and an unfair travesty, at that.
Is it now?
"What did I have?" said the fine old woman
"What did I have?" this proud old woman did say
"I had four green fields, each one was a jewel
But strangers came and tried to take them from me
I had fine strong sons, they fought to save my jewels
They fought and died, and that was my grief" said she
"Long time ago" said the fine old woman
"Long time ago" this proud old woman did say
"There was war and death, plundering and pillage
My children starved by mountain valley and sea
And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens
My four green fields ran red with their blood" said she
"What have I now?" said the fine old woman
"What have I now?" this proud old woman did say
"I have four green fields, one of them's in bondage
In stranger's hands, that tried to take it from me
But my sons have sons, as brave as were their fathers
My fourth green field will bloom once again" said she
I rest my case. Now.
Limey scum! Limey Scum!