When I’m lonley or feeling dejected,
or I spend ev’ry night alone,
I pretend like I’m in Ireland
where the Irish bagpipes drone.

Smell the grass as a rainstorm has ended,
people smile as I stroll pass their farms
With a red-headed sailor named Brenden,
and we dance without moving our arms.

In bar once I met this guy Dewey
and he bought me like, fourteen beers.
then he told me that he was from Ireland,
so I lived with him ten years.

If I squinted he looked like my sailor,
through my boozey delusional fog.
But he dumped me for some girl named Kayla,
took my trailor and took my dog.

Hey! You look like that poster for Ireland,
long blonde hair and that sweet sunny face.
Oh no wait, that’s the postwe for Sweden,
Oh screw it I’ll never see either place.

But a girl sweet as you has a future,
you have hope as each new day dawns.
Girls like you always get to see Ireland,
give my love to the leprechauns.