Being part Irish I have to admit
that yes indeed, I celebrate it.
If truly the Irish are lucky you see,
I’ll have my green beer and sandwich of brie.
I’ll dress in me greens with a button or two
that says I am Irish, how about you?
I’ll get out me Bodhran and give it some beats;
then my tin whistle, I will play while folks eat.
I’ll have buttery shortbreads’ and other great treats;
and don me tapp’in shoes with their new cleats.
While the fiddler bows his old Irish tunes,
I may take a moment to have me a croon.
I’ll do me a jig or two, for good measure;
then politely say, thank’ye, ‘tis been a pleasure.
Me ancestors came from that dear Emerald Isle;
though they hated to leave, they did it with style.
My vice and addiction is not with bookies
But my money’s spent on Girl Scout cookies.
My daughter she sells them and gives me a wink
For she knows I will buy them before I could blink
The shortbreads, the caramels, the cinnamon swirls
The supporters of my addiction are these little girls
My vice and addiction is not with bookies
But my money’s spent on Girl Scout cookies.
My daughter she sells them and gives me a wink
For she knows I will buy them before I could blink
The shortbreads, the caramels, the cinnamon swirls
The supporters of my addiction are these little girls