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Irish blood and English heart That's where the trouble seems to start A hopeless child always howling at the moon Emotion going through the roof
THE IRISH GIRL Source: “The Maine Woods Songster” edited by Phillips Barry, 1939 As I roved out one evening down by the river side A looking all
impune lacessit, and other such joys Be you Scottish or British or English or Irish Tick the box for your colour or creed Cultural appropriation
go Let go, move on, pass it on, Irish blood of an English son
the tracks, And my heart will be restored with virgin blood. Warm, your warm, Victoria.
Once upon a time there was Irish ways and irish laws Villages of irish blood waking to the morning good But england and her soldiers came started
can't love Right here hustling by myself Just me with myself My eyes keep loving you but my heart is sad for you I have no more chance to be happy again I
quick if you feel what I mean I kill it real quick to see how it bleed Eventually I will see what I mean The blood on my jeans I don't care what you see
And room in the sky for the dreams to float Escalator yo all in good time Got love in my heart with knives in my eyes Hope in my hand sheepish in my feet
the right filter for taking that selfie My Ireland is rich land dressed by Penneys My Ireland is The Quiet Man And Waterford Whispers shouting for us all My
his blood runs thin Eyes shut, lights dim Benaz is on her own again silence falls Reminds her of dawn Her heart blinks, Mum starts to cry Her mask
Can you hear me? Out of the East on an Irish stallion came Bounty Hunter Dan His heart quickened and burned by the need to get his man He found
we ain't Jews And still we blinded by the same light Veil torn before our eyes, but actin like it's bird box All faiths without seeing, but we
This is the community That is Irish and English Which can be hard to distinguish Just don't call me British This is the community Where our Gaels
violent I keep it Irish i keep it smart So permanent, bleeding heart, conservative Don't cringe I'm just scrubbing Off your third iris The sickest,
'know thyself' will be thy mantra Spanish, English, Irish songs You will sing in angel's tones Sancocho, you will love to sip, one day Guinness too Moods
ease the guns in Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function Heads by the score take flight, incite a war Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans
ease the guns in Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function Heads by the score take flight, incite a war Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans
fluid goes back out, the blood goes back in Body goes back to hospital where it comes alive again The paramedics walk backwards like an Irish dance Put
many a sad heart in Dublin that morning When they murdered James Connolly-. the Irish rebel
this earth Played with skirts, always alert Shirt me if you want to shirt me, I conserve Energy that's been burnt Take your turn, I earn, dollar by
of a master You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats Break necks of broke souls who hate me Hate he? you can't
love you like the places we go, and our friends smoke cigarettes, and they're friends, best of friends Oh now there's Irish blood in our English years.
of their own What was it that turned their hearts so that they start To identify with power even though they're powerless Identify with wealth even
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