He strolls against the thunderstorm and tries for a smile, seems the wife was right, time for Deja Vu all over again
Had this – our town – not already incurred enough?
Had it not stood up to Mother Nature – the cheating, two-faced infidel – and won for the final time
Mrs O’ Leary’s lacklustre distanced shrug says it all as she tries for the millionth time to jigsaw the shop shelves back together
There’s battle-hard then there is Bandon on choppy tides fit for only those carrying the backbone of a stallion – glistened and swimming on through no less
The true case of a diamond shining amidst the oh so bloody rough aside tumble
Yet, like they are all supposed to come bearing gifts of kindness either way because they are not, for many others would simply shy away to die, these impossible to beat shop owners align themselves bedraggled to the bone outside each about to be deluged time again premises as though t’were their calling card of unfathomable sorts
Our very own Titanic-esque turmoil, albeit minuscule in complete comparison but it All Adds Up For Fucksake, where the country’s spotlight gets dragged and focused right back upon us once more like the flailing armed survivors that we were so harshly chosen to represent – when the gateway to West Cork becomes everyone’s proud keeper, their soul purpose as such
Ramshackled and agitated, appearing to be beaten by all known accords
Prepared to swim when to sink would be no real shock of its accustomed own a water-ravaged nation throughout
The harder we do try the stronger this political foothold against our squirming neck does tend to taking itself
Warren Allen’s wasn’t afloat in ’09 so to speak – lose our humor we lose our appeal – when the first onslaught thought to take one town sizably asunder but it will act as though it has just as much ability and ammunition as its other seemingly more equipped venues and collect itself
No-one is equipped, to be equipped would be to have known
And to think, us perched further on off atop these safe hills every sightseeing side of it, where a tsunami would barely tickle our toes, shame ourselves into thinking it a little unlucky – seeing your livelihood duck ‘n dive right before your astonished eyes has to frighten it all from you
Time for us to finally slip right into their shoes perhaps
Piecing it back together in the full knowledge that no government can guarantee a get-out clause because it should but somehow just won’t
Take Your Thumb Out And Stick It In Our Dam, Goddamnit!!
If it’s a fight you want then it’s a fair and deserving fight you will absolutely get ’till your priorities make sense again – you’re like the Captain jumping ship while your real people, the sane and same ones who made you happen, stop at nothing to make up for your exercised mess
When your chance to shine like your very own diamond amidst a decade of rough turns out to be the make or break of us all – your diamond is but an iceberg right now
Our breaststroke is utmost valid while yours has every event in a God awful spin
Blow your own fucking whistle
