My Land Is Too Green

My land is bogged down in religious tradition
We nod our heads in humble submission
One foot in the door, a hand in your pocket
We export our problems for foreign solutions

My land is naive, too scared of the devil
Holier than thou with eyes up to heaven
When nobody looks we tear strips off our neighbour
And to have a good laugh at it all in the end

Shrouded and mist the outlook's appalling
Pressure is rising but temperature's falling
Sunny spells and scattered showers
But still it rains for hours and hours

And as the floods rise we drown our sorrows
Tossing them back like there is no tomorrow
And in the end we'll stick or stand
And piss it back to the bog holes of Ireland

My land is too full of incurable scheming
The promises given are nothing but dreaming
We all love a rogue we'll make him our leader
And every four years it's right back to zero

My land is still poor and underdeveloped
We talk round our problems for hours on end
And then we decide there's two sides to the story
And have a good laugh at it all in the end

Shrouded in mist the outlook's appalling
Pressure is rising but temperature's falling
Sunny spells and scattered showers
And still it rains for hours and hours

And as the floods rise we drown our sorrows
Tossing them back like there is no tomorrow
And in the end we will sit or stand
And piss it back to the bog holes of Ireland