The Rumjacks — An Irish Pub Song

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There’s a county map to go on the wall
A hurling stick & a shinty ball
The bric, the brac, the craic & all
Lets call it an Irish pub
Caffreys, Harp, Kilkenny on tap
The Guinness pie & that cabbage crap
The ideal wannabee Paddy trap
We’ll call it an Irish pub

Whale, oil, beef, hooked! I swear upon the holy book
The only ‘craic’ you’ll get is a slap in the ear
Whale, oil, beef, hooked! I’ll up & burst yer filthy mug
If you draw one more shamrock in me beer!

We’ll raise the price o’ beer a dollar
We’ll make em wear a shirt & collar
We’ll fly a bloody tri-colour
And call it an Irish pub
Jager bombs & double shots
The underagers think its tops
We’ll spike the drinks & pay the cops
We got us an Irish pub

The quick one in the filthy bog
The partin’ glass across the lug
O’ the lady-O, the dirty dog
We got us an Irish pub
It’s over to me and over to you
We’ll skip along the Avenue
And who t’hell is Ronnie Drew?
We got us an Irish pub

Plasma screens & neon lights
Kara-farkin-oke nights
The bouncers they can pick the fights
We’ll call it an Irish pub
Plastic cups, a polished floor
We’ll hose the blood right out the door
And let the knucklers back for more
We got us an Irish pub

Oh top o’ the mornin’, Garryowen
Kiss me I’m Irish, Molly Malone
Failte, Slainte, Pog ma thon
We got us an Irish pub
Spike the punch & strip the willow
Strike me up the rakes o’ Mallow
The Liffey never ran so shallow
We got us an Irish pub