The Big Match
I'm off to Dublin tomorrow for the match on Sunday. I just wanted to record my prediction here, so:
Galway 2-20
Cork 1-20
I hope there aren't many Cork people at the game.. because they get on my nerves!
posted by Sean at 9:55 a.m.
4 Comments:
The Banks Of My Own Lovely Lee
(Dick Forbes, J C Flanahan)
How oft do my thoughts in their fancy take flight
To the home of my childhood away
To the days when each patriot's vision seem'd bright
Ere I dreamed that those joys should decay
When my heart was as light as the wild winds that blow
Down the Mardyke through each elm tree
Where I sported and play'd 'neath each green leafy shade
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
And then in the springtime of laughter and song
Can I ever forget the sweet hours?
With the friends of my youth as we rambled along
'Mongst the green mossy banks and wild flowers
Then too, when the evening sun's sinking to rest
Sheds its golden light over the sea
The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
'Tis a beautiful land this dear isle of song
Its gems shed their light to the world
And her faithful sons bore thro' ages of wrong
The standard St. Patrick unfurled
Oh! would I were there with the friends I love best
And my fond bosom's partner with me
We'd roam thy banks over, and when weary we'd rest
By thy waters, my own lovely Lee
We'd roam thy banks over, and when weary we'd rest
By thy waters, my own lovely Lee
Oh what joys should be mine ere this life should decline
To seek shells on thy sea-girdled shore
While the steel-feathered eagle, oft splashing the brine
Brings longing for freedom once more
Oh all that on earth I wish for or crave
Is that my last crimson drop be for thee
To moisten the grass of my forefathers' grave
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
To moisten the grass of my forefathers' grave
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
11:46 a.m.
rhyming "song" with "wrong" and "fight" with "bright" does not a good song make
12:02 p.m.
My, brother, knows, Karl Marx,
He met him eating mushrooms in the peoples park,
He said 'What do you think about my manifesto?'
'I like a manifesto, put it to the test-o.'
Took it straight down to meet the anarchist's party.
I met a groovy guy, he was arty farty,
He said 'I know a little latin man a cus man a kai'
I said 'I don't know what it means' he said 'neither do I'
Eat natural foods, bathe twice daily,
Fill your nostrils up with gravy.
Don't drink tea and don't drink coffee.
Cover your chin in yorkshire toffee.
Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumber,
Wait a minute, where's me jumper, ( x4 )
Dancing at the disco, bumper to bumber,
Wait a minute, where's me jumper ? ( x5 )
Oh no.
Dancing at the disco, go, go, go.
Dancing at the disco, oh no, oh no, oh no.
Dancing at the disco, go, go, go.
Dancing at the disco, oh no, oh no.
It's alright to say things can only get better,
You haven't lost your brand new sweater.
I know I had it on when I had my tea,
And I'm sure I had it on in the lavatory.
Oh no.
Dancing in the disco, go, go, go.
Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no.
Dancing in the disco, bumper to bumper,
Wait a minute, where's me jumper ? ( x5 )
It's alright to say things can only get better,
You haven't lost your brand new sweater.
Pure new wool, and perfect stitches,
Not the type of jumper that makes you itches
Oh no.
Dancing in the disco, go, go, go.
Dancing in the disco, oh no, oh no.
And my mother, will be so, so angry.
And my brother, will be so, so angry.
And my girlfriend, will be so, so angry.
And my dog, will be so, so angry.
Cos I was dancing at the disco, bumper to bumper.
Wait a minute, where's me jumper ( x5 )
Oh no !
4:37 p.m.
its like throwin peanuts to a monkey ger
6:37 p.m.
Post a Comment
<< Home