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Smoke & Strong Whiskey
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Kids wear white garters, and smell like their mothers Whose husbands and fathers alike Drink black beer in the same public houses Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey. Mammies and daddies, skipping ropes Lectures from priests, living in hope That they've not mistaken the brand of their coats They've paid for by spiritual teachings. A busy year this, streets running red How many sent to their nuptial bed How many sent home to a winter of graves How many wait in for the slaughter. It's Easter again, and we cannot forget Our brothers and sisters and all that was said So practise your pipes, stand proud in the wet. For the eyes of the world are upon you. CHORUS Oh, oh, the holy ground Céad mile failte, there's saints and there's scholars to see Oh, oh, the holy ground

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