Baile Átha Cliath

This city smells of cigarettes and liquor

The malts are sharp and the drams are bitter

The winds are swift but the cabs are quicker

The water runs black, but my blood is thicker.

And this city is seen in dusk and night

When the shops are closed and the cars sway right

When the glass half full with scotch delight

Eats at your heart with a tenderly bite.

And the stories are told in myth and legend

Where the Witches burn and the changelings leaven

Where the vials are cursed, but to drink, is heaven

Where to catch your tongue, is to use your weapon.

And to fish through the seas of stony, lit eyes

With their ebony fringes caught deep in the tides

With the Galway girls robust in their strides

With their graffiti tinge washed well to their sides.

And upon this bridge the waves may look whiter

The Lads blaze the streets with their cigarette lighters

And the tramp, in a haze, will pull an all-nighter

Think fast, drunk champs, for your sky’s getting brighter.