G Poem - Paddy and the Tourist

Paddy and the Tourist

'Top of the mornin' says he
With pseudo Irish glee
And the Yank passed by

'Home' he is
For the trip of a lifetime
Seeking pigs in parlours
Currachs in harbours
And colleens in their prime

He is fodder for the big hotels
We make the music
And they fill the tills
As the dollars flutter
Peasants stutter
And colleens straighten their frills

He's got the shots
He's on the plane
Leaving behind the mist and the rain
And Paddy, his culture sold
Shivers on in the dampness and the cold

MWC
1980's