It’s now all right
To shaft the working classes,
The docks’ hardworking passive masses,
Those Blue Collar fellows
Of the lower classes.
Bricklayers, Carpenters, Electricians, Plumbers, Plasterers,
And many others of their ilk.
The Celtic Tiger,
A monument to their work and sweat,
Though the names of those who died,
Those three hundred are not inscribed.
Should the living complain of their financial state,
Tell to get on their bike
And take a hike.
Anyhow it is too late,
By now they should know their fate.
To survive they must emigrate.
So treat them as you would your asses,
Tell them to get off their lazy arses.
Anyhow it’s all too late,
By now they should know their fate.
To survive they must emigrate,
For truly they are only beasts of burden.
Inexplicably they are not a class
To moan and bitch,
Even as they observe the lifestyle
Of the non productive privileged idle rich.
Crook, Liar, Perjurer, and Thief,
Parasites on the back of men,
Whose lives progress without a hitch.
Bankers, Speculators, Developers,
Their crooked political Godfather
Of Fianna Fáil.
Michael Brennan
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