Poor Old Ireland - Lindisfarne

Poor old Ireland, poor old universe

Wonder who comes off the worse

Poor old people mistreating misbelieving

I think you’ve been cast by a curse

But I don’t want you to die, I can see all the lies

There’s nothing there that’s new

But there’s still no need to make blind children bleed

Even if what you say is true

And meanwhile in the aisles of the churches with style

They’re singing their songs to the Lord

And the preacher’s carping that for failure on earth

Heaven will be your reward

Poor old Ireland tortured by past and

Tarnished by future’s curse

Poor old Ireland, poor old planet

Poor old universe

Oh Ireland your people mean more than the idols

You seek to set upon earth

And the day that you see that’s the day, that all of your

Sadness and sickness will die

For the enemy you seek to destroy is not the

One who’s causing the pain

He’s disguised himself well with his book and his bell but

Evil is still his name

Poor old Ireland tortured by past and

Tarnished by future’s curse

Poor old Ireland, poor old universe

Wonder who comes off the worse