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Ode to the Irish Pub (Ode) by mindsigns

Over in Kinsale the band began to wail the drinks were flowing freely to the different types of people who've come in to share a jar or to keep their troubles far where a pint might make a difference in every reminiscence. Well, we're drinking and we're drinking we're drowning and we're thinking that this night might last forever and no more nasty weather with our pockets full of holes as we gather down the dole The women are in protest for their lack of beauty rest. Raise your hand if you are sober then we'll bring another over you don't want to be left out from this lovely Irish stout. Let us toast our merry glasses and try not to act like asses because we're Irish and we're proud but we're getting rather loud singing.. "We drink to live, we drink to die we drink to laugh and cry we drink to O'Kenary and the lonely passerby we drink and dance to old romance we drink for loved ones lost. Drink up to all those memories no matter what the cost."

Dovina 25-Jul-06/12:44 PM
Ah, Kinsale, of Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe, a hill town with narrow streets beside a harbor. It’s mostly pubs, restaurants and tourists today, but it was the last outpost for ships about to attempt the dangerous Atlantic crossings during the potato famine. And to sit there in a pub with tipper tipping against a bodran, singing Red-head Mary, Guinness in hand, yes, it makes the world go away. You’ve captured it well.




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