My Beautiful Belfast

We are a humble sounding people

With a passion for identity 

Without respect for humanity 

We create chaos with intensity

The clowns and charlatans on the hill

have all played their part

With their comedic rhetoric of lies, and deceit in their heart

Where are the brave leaders?

the Martin Luthers, the Clement Atlee

Who fought for the welfare in communities and families

The protesters, the rebels, the anarchists, the apologists 

are pushed from the right by elitists and capitalists, 

they gulder to the house

the ists have it!

the ists have it!

A cry from a time when the world has been sleeping

We let chaos prevail from a redundant peacekeeping

From the remembrance of yesterdays

They gave us our tomorrow

Yet my eyes blurred with tears 

From their horror stories of sorrow 

The red poppy falls

But the flags still shape our city

Again .. where are the leaders?

I cry in self-pity 

Has death been in jest, request or conquest?

Leaving our city depressed, repressed …. and distressed 

But as the twinkling lights flicker 

While the harbour horn blows

Peace moves amongst us 

on these mysterious shores

‘String Ninjas’ fill the market place

with a passion for playing

These performing musical warriors

stops the city decaying 

Embrace the laughter the love, the dance and romance 

Lift a glass to its charm … and it’s circumstance 

From suffocated to resuscitated, revived, and now thriving

Let’s toast to the soul of a city surviving ….

Good Health, good health, 

good health to the men and may the women live forever …

to affirm the Amen 

Sláinte, Sláinte

Sláinte na bhfear agus go maire na mná go ….

Amen x