This island green from sea to ocean
Beyond the pale in perpetual motion
Is free embodied yet in disguise
The white boys hide behind blacked out eyes
Where potato crops failed then rain offered blight
No sympathy of others as more died each night
In famine starvation yet still in ignorance
Now standing on the cusp of pure providence
The golfing the yachting all objects of wealth
Are traded exchanged for poor literary health
From O’Casey to Yeats from Collins to Russell
The Celtic tiger once more flexed her muscle
Now feasting on the beast of capitalism
Without concepts of that future vision
It’s lost like all the other sheep of this union
Beyond compare and in confusion
This Emerald jewel from crag to mountain
The other worlds door through natures fountain
Is flowing freely but in disregard
For the poorest ones when the days get hard
This notion this dream from Howth to Sneem
The offering up of our thickest cream
In hope or desperation then resignation
The rising from the ashes of the new Irish Nation
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