I walk slow when I want to but run with the rest.

and I’ll always be wanting to kiss Brigit’s breasts!

I’ll drink tea like my Ma did and whiskey like Da

for tis blessed to be sober but more fun to be bad!

I will fight when it’s needed but love peace more than war

and I’ll keep my gun loaded and hung on the door.

If the Prots come a’ knocking’ I’ll shock them instead!

I’ll grab down my rifle and shoot them all dead.

And when it comes to my wake, I know there’ll be friends.

There’ll be drinking’ and dancing’ and they’ll sing to the end.

Sure they’ll sing of the sorrows and sing of the joy

and remember me always as a good Irish boy!

I know that Saint Padric is waiting for me.

I know there’s eternity where I can be free.

But if given the chance to choose Heaven or Home,

I know in my heart,

tis Ireland for me.