Oh, Belfast

Oh, Belfast

Belfast, oh Belfast 

Not a cry. 

Not a whine. 

A few pence for the dollar. 

Oh, how strange 

What a crime. 


Good craic. 

A craic. 

Ain’t it good. 


Linda and Rose 

An excellence ‘spose. 

The laughter, 

The Play 

No rainier days. 

Our craic is the best 

It’ll warm you right up. 


What a city 

What a place 

The shipyard cranes

That pane over the Titanic

Draping over the Lagan.

Or lay-gan.

What a beautiful haven. 


From gay street 

To high street 

To Victoria Square 


Not a hare. 

Not a possum. 

Not a hare-brained snout ‘nor snare. 

It’s kindness. 

You call it the typical ride, 

But, it’s love in its purest. 

It’s beautiful joy. 


Oh, inspired we are to see your sensitive spot. 


Oh, Belfast. 

What a grand 

A very grand. 


What does one say 

How does one speak 

When their heart won’t flinch 

And their pain won’t scream 


A reporter at supper 

Or a Maverick at tea 


P and 

G Tips 

When the soul cannot see 


An ache in my heart,

A pain in my soul,

What does the heart say

When the words can't control?


Oh, Belfast, my home,

My love, my cry,

Incite me, in spite me,

Despite all my cries,


My heart is for you,

I will never die,


You are, indeed,


And mine.

Incite me 

In spite me 

Despite all my cries 

My heart is for you. 

I will never die. 



You are, indeed, 


And mine.