Lyrics:
There's home-dyed woolens, and wee plastic [cuillins]
[blessed? ] [cuchulains? ]
[cuchulain == mythical irish hero --- wee plastic cuchulains? ]
overgrown
Like a cabin in the woods on a minor
Like a minor holiday
Wool rich red plaid wolf
Irish whiskey glass
Here comes my fine bright haired
spoken"
As Spring comes to Spiddal
The village girls go walking
By without their coats
The Irish gaelic college
Is alive again with folk
Framers
to open I'm on my way on my way to what I think is
I see the American tourists outside the GPO they're all wishing they were Irish but not the Irish
La, La La La, La, La la la
La, La La La, La, La la la
She's working as a waitress in Dublin,
Filling up the tourists with beer,
Stashing away
Sweet Irish Cream (Em)
Slow Intro -> Fast intro
Verse 1
(Em) While on holiday in Dingle
near the (Dsus2) Ring of Kerry
I (Asus2) spotted a young
pumping up the nation but it's gonna bust a vein.
Tourists everywhere, blocking up the streets.
My ice cream cone just melted in the heat.
And while I
Although the days are long
It's always cool at night.
If you can't play the piccolo
The holidays are near
When it's night time in Italy and Wednesday
on the wall
says "American also spoken"
As Spring comes to Spiddal
The village girls go walking
by without their coats
The Irish gaelic college
is alive again
Shark's on the beach all the TVs say
Someone come quick, he'll chase the tourists away
C'mon it's a holiday
C'mon it's a holiday
Never seen him
a holiday
She's a holiday
She's a holiday
She's a holiday
And I can hear The Beatles on repeat, I can see the tourists flock then flee
What an angel but what
Seven years in this tourist town
Couple more weeks til I move out
Sold my shit on the internet
Irish goodbyed all my friends
I’m crying over
The cafes are all deserted, the streets are wet again
There's nothing quite like an out of season holiday town in the rain
When the tourists go
a drainage ditch
He said he thought it was valet parking for the Holiday Inn Express
Do you need anything from Duty Free?
I got to get back to Kil-, Kilken-ny
The cafes are all deserted, the streets are wet again
There's nothing quite like an out of season holiday town
In the rain
When the tourists go
Bows and ribbons, spiked punch cinnamon, frosted windows pine
Uncle John's slingin em, everybody's feeling his holiday mai-tai
An out of tune piano,
through the Irish rain
One night in Belfast the closest kind of love
Haven't seen you in a year and here we are just lying here
Irish family just
Fatal Hesitation
The cafes are all deserted, the streets are wet again
There's nothing quite like an out of season holiday town
In the rain
a fancy castle
Had a hard time gettin' my dinner there
It was full of these people with light blonde hair
Danish tourists two big busloads of 'em
Now
and the tourist board
I will chase the snakes for st. patrick
And he will come like the next u2
The clouds will melt like butter in the sun
With the four leaf
It's about that time of year
Where we stand in long lines
Buying holiday cheer
Sunny outside
No chance of snow
Invited to parties
I dont wanna go
him a lot
We take a holiday, is this what you want?
To have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Have a nice day
Lie around all day,
for the holiday he looking for a lick
Country boy a tourist say he looking for a brick
He must think this a movie now he tied up in the 6
Ever since
go
There must be some method to the madness
Tourist traps and museum food
Saying thanks in a language that's never been used
This could be
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