Wednesday, March 16, 2011

A Prayer to Paddy

(To nearly any 4/4 Irish Reel)

Saint Pat’s life is a myth I hear, (a grand excuse to drink green beer)
A ghost we hallow once a year for chasing out the snakes
A middle man twixt us and God, a conduit for prayer and prod
A captain of the heaven squad who helps right our mistakes

I know not much of this is true, and yet between just me and you
I have a more progressive view of minions of the stars
I need a man of Patrick’s weave, I’ve got a purpose up my sleeve
So honestly, I must believe he’s more than smoke filled bars

To him I offer up these pleas from one of earth’s more vocal fleas
I’ll sing it loud, upon my knees, and pray he does exist
I need a champion (not the pope) who’ll bear us on a sea of hope
Who’ll stand upon the slippery slope and order snakes dismissed!

(To When Irish Eyes are smiling)

Dear Patrick, saint of Ireland
I beg you to clear our lands
We’ve reptiles as leaders, antipathy breeders,
We need a change of hands

Saint Paddy I implore you
To take up your crosier for me
Rid earth of its scourge
Stop this ne’er ending dirge
Please push them all into the sea!

(To Irish Washerwoman)

Here! Theres…
Bushes and Cheney and all their apostles
Please take Osama and all of his hostiles
Jintao and all Chinese communist fossils
Chuck them all into the blue briny deep

Chavez can go as can comrade F. Castro
Anyone charged in the Darfur fiasco
Cook up a Cameron stew with Tabasco
Dump Al Kalifah, now there’s a real creep

Take care of Putin with poisons in pottery
Torture Hamas one by one by a lottery
Send al-Asad to a grave cold and watery
Plant Kim Jong-il under mountains of sod

Garrotte Gadhafi and make us all happy
Crush Lukashenko and please make it snappy
I’d save Abdullah but he’s just as crappy
File away Mahmood Ahmadinajad

Please remove Puff Daddy, Sheen and Madonna
Paris and Trump and that ex of Nirvana
Jolie and Brit and the Geico iguana
Give us a break from the whiny and crude

Save us and next time I promise, scout’s honor
We’ll choose leaders better, like Sandra O’Connor
Please lose the snakes or this world is a goner
This I beseech thee, ….. O Shamrockin’ Dude


 Can be heard, if one is not afraid of going deaf or growing hair on one's palms, here:

1 comment:

  1. Splendid lyrics indeed.
    (not that we laud St. Patrick here -- it'd be like praising Torquemanda!)