I Don't Know What It Means And

People Everywhere Brag And Whimper About The Woes Of Their Early Years, But Nothing Can Compare With The Irish Version: The Poverty; The Shiftless Loquacious Father; The Pious Defeated Mother Moaning By The Fire; Pompous Priests; Bullying School Masters; The English And The Terrible Things They Did To Us For Eight Hundred Long Years. Above All -- We Were Wet.

Shakespeare Is Like Mashed Potatoes, You Can Never Get Enough Of Him.

If You Were Mean To Your Parents, They'd Give You A Good Belt In The Gob And Send You Flying Across The Room.

They Can Afford To Smile Because They All Have Teeth So Dazzling If They Dropped Them In The Snow They'd Be Lost Forever.

The Master Says It’s A Glorious Thing To Die For The Faith And Dad Says It’s A Glorious Thing To Die For Ireland And I Wonder If There’s Anyone In The World Who Would Like Us To Live.