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.
Belfast
Oh, Belfast.
What a grand
A very grand.
Time.
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,
Belfast,
You are, indeed,
Mine,
And mine.
Incite me
In spite me
Despite all my cries
My heart is for you.
I will never die.
Belfast
You are, indeed,
Mine.
And mine.