Friday, August 04, 2006

Dublin Irish Festival

Dublin, Ohio used to be mostly cornfields, and the site of the Dublin Irish Festival was undoubtedly one in days of yore. But hey, the city is called Dublin, so they have to act like they're a natural extension of the Auld Country.

Which is fine, because they put on one hell of a great Irish festival anyway -- three days of dart throwing, boulder tossing, corned beef sandwiches, the stoutest of stouts, and more great music than you can shake a shalalee at, on seven stages that run more or less continuously from noon to midnight. You should go. I am. See you Monday. Go crack some damned English heads.

I was born on a Dublin street where the Royal drums do beat
And the loving English feet they tramped all over us,
And each and every night when me father'd come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:

Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you won medals fown in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.

Come let me hear you tell
How you slammed the great Pernell,
When you fought them well and truly persecuted,
Where are the smears and jeers
That you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of sixteen were executed.

Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you won medals fown in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.

Come tell us how you slew
Those brave Arabs two by two
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely slew each one
With your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.

Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you won medals fown in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.

The day is coming fast
And the time is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,
And if there be a need
Sure my kids wil sing, "Godspeed!"
With a verse or two of Steven Beehan's chorus.

Oh, come out you black and tans,
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you won medals fown in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA
Made you run like hell away,
From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.

Notes: Written by Dominic Behan, brother of the famous Irish playwright Brendan Behan. This song is reputedly an account of their father taunting loyalist neighbors after a night of drinking during the Irish war of independence (1919-21).

1 comment:

brian carlson said...

AAAAAhhhhhhh the music of my youth. Let's just say I grew up in a family that wasn't exactly pro British ;-)