No country for young men.

 Scourge. (To the tune, Brennan on the Moor)
Benjamin-Constant-The_Throne_Room_In_Byzantiumthrone room Byzantium
A fleeting hush informs you
As you enter at the door
That you’ve been sussed,religiously
At the speed of light,or more
And every mother’s son of them
Thinks he knows the score
And you could be getting what you came for
That,and a whole lot more.
Head her up for the border lads
The girls are mighty fine
Their easy laugh so natural
Good and genuine
And their spirits are untainted
By false piety of mind
So you can stick all that scripture
Up where the sun don’t shine.
And there was me just lookin’
For a girl,white ,black or brown
Always liked the redheads
With that wee inward frown
But a chill, too familiar
Tells me all I need to know
T’is no place for a questing heart
You may take your brogue and go.
Head her up for the border boys
Life’s too short to waste your time
To bother to allay the fears
That warp a planter’s mind
They will steal your grapes and crush them
Then sell you back the wine
It’s a cold,bitter climate
North of the borderline.
Even if a lad should pull
Across that great divide
What appears on the cover
Ain’t the story inside
Coco and Dior
Can no disguise provide
If one is not  living honestly
Admit it; One has died.
Head her up for the border lads
There’s a busload up from Clare
When god created women
He left the best ones there
And when we get to talkin’
Let’s all head on way out wesht
We’ll not stop till we hit Galway
And our Byzantine soul’s refreshed. Yo!
amelia earhart

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