Irish Luck


© Richard Goldman, 2009



Well, it's Irish luck, the mud & muck -- too many rows to hoe
Potato blight, it took the crop -- so o'er the sea we go

To Cape Cod, for the love of God -- we should've sailed on down
A merciless Nor'easter and we wind up in this town


Bound for Boston -- lost in transit
Not exactly as we planned it
Tho', in time, the hills would fall
To welcome one and welcome all


Further on, a course to show
Could be clearer, I don't know
Trim the sails & sheathe your knife
Hug the coast and hold on for dear life


Bless me, Father, for I've sinned -- how else would you explain
The town's alarm -- no open arms -- this Irish fear campaign

Memories of an emerald isle are sweeter now, it seems
But Irish song & whiskey make for less unpleasant dreams


Bound in Boston -- still in transit
Not exactly as we planned it
Tho', in time, the hills will fall
To welcome one and welcome all


Further on, some roads to show
Could be straighter, I don't know
Kiss the kids & kiss the wife
Hug the coast and hold on for dear life


Any harbor in a storm
Any shelter from the swarm
Any stage and you'll perform
Work to keep the family warm


In the town a beast laid bare
Face the demon in its lair
Any god to offer prayer
Sleight of hand and vanish in thin air


They say a Saint named Patrick cleared the snakes from far & near
But copperhead & timbers aren't the serpents we need fear
The Bramin institution says 'No Irish need apply'
But we've got faith & we've got strength -- we'll own this city by & by


Bound to Boston -- rapid transit
Track & tunnel -- no one plans
Still, we know the hills did fall
So welcome one and welcome all


Years along, a song to show
Could be sweeter, I don't know
Call the family, grab your fife
Hug the coast and hold on ...