For the Irish

Proud fathers and relatives of the past. Ghost's of thoose first Irish americans. Eventhough the ignorant tried to kill us still we did last. Using are fists and breaking are backs. from New York to Boston. Green blood dries in the tracks. Beautiful Island of green we left yet still within are souls you stay. From Belfast to Dublin In croweded streets were children play. Some call us paddy the brave few dare say mic. Hate filled people casting stones at the weak and sick. As we viewed a new promise we were met with a black eye. But from the church to the pud. The Irish were to strong to die. And for all thoose who fought so I my may talk to you from this stool I sit. I promise you children of Eran . I shall never quit. So may the people dance and sing while the whiskey does flow. Let the young carry the torch so all may know. from shamrocks to St Patricks day. Weve come to far. So we shall never go away.