That's it,I've had enough of it it's time to go,
all the work I've put in,with nothing to show,
the cronyism,phonyism,plagiarism,thievery,
like the Ireland I love is a fading memory,
reeling in the years,yeah great  nostalgia,
but staying any longer is a form of mania-
the banks and the builders and political ****,
it's all work no play,no mon no fun,
so **** it,now my bags are packed jack,I'm hitting the road
broad shoulders slowly dipping from the constant load,
of backstabbers,moneygrabbers,tribunals,and deaths,
make a break while I can,they haven't beat me yet,
yeah I gotta get goin' while the goin's good,
I hope you understand my reason's,both friends and blood,
now it's time to make a move before I go insane,
don't be grieving when I'm leaving on the next **** plane
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"

Looking at those before me you can trace the tracks,
from the Wild Geese to the political flak,
the Children of Eire,like the Children of Lir*
fly from lake to lake,driven by need and fear,
and optimism-everybody wants a better life,
to escape the butcher's apron,and the subtler knife,
of poverty,loss of identity,clan's torn asunder,
a lightning storm rages,listen to the thunder,
austerity cuts,don't make me laugh,
fat greedy politicians cut your wages in half,
so they can stuff their faces,wallets,and banks,
said it 12 years ago,you think they give a ****?,
about your family's health,they say tighten your belt,
well mine's met in the middle,time to hand out welts,
a proud Celtic tradition flushed down the drain,
so slan leat for now time to catch that plane.

Took a long time,to make this decision,
every tear,every smile is another incision,
in the heart of me the start of me,born again,
looking at my boarding pass brings a pang of pain,
but everyone knows for me-it's time to move on,
and I'll keep the torch lit,Yeah-EC strong
turned from Hermit to Hermes,with a message to pass,
I've took enough names,time to kick ***,
so wish me luck wish me well,watch me give em hell,
I got a way with words and what a story to tell,
hurdles to pass and a long way to go,
so much to say but I still flow slow,
memories are pulling me in two directions,
spun my tires so long,time to gain some traction,
it's time for action,my reason's are plain,
so hold it down for me here,I gotta catch that plane"
(Sample john denver here)

"I'm leavin on a jetplane,don't know when I'll be back again"

Brigid was born on a flax mill farm,
Near the Cavan border, in Monaghan,
At Lough Egish on the Carrick Road,
The last child of the Sheridans.
The sluice still runs near the water wheel,
With thistles thriving on rusted steel.

Little's known of Nellie's early years;
Da died before she knew grieving tears,
They'd turn her eyes in later years.

She's eleven posing with her class,
This photo shows an Irish lass.
Her look is distant,
Her face is blurred,
But recognizable
In an instant.

She was schooled six years
To last a life,
Some math, the Irish,
To read and write.

Her Mammy grew ill,
She lost a leg,
And bit by bit,
By age sixteen,
Nellie buried her first dead.
Too young to be alone,
Sisters and brother had left the home.
The cloistered convent took her in,
She taught urchins and orphans
About God and Grace and sin.
There were no vows for Nellie then.

At nineteen she met a Creamery man,
Jim Lynch of the Cavan clan;
He delivered dairy from his lorry,
Married Nellie,
Relieved their worry.

War flared, men were few,
There was work in Coventry.
Ireland's thistles were left to bloom.

Nellie soon was Michael's Mammy,
Then Maura, Sheila and Kevin followed,
When war floundered to its end,
They shipped back to Monaghan,
And brought the mill to life again.

The thistles and weeds
That surrounded the mill,
Were scythed and scattered
By Daddy's zeal.
He built himself
A generator,
Providing power
To lights and wheel.

Sean was born,
Gerald soon followed;
Then Michael died.
A nine year old,
His Daddy's angel.
Is this what turns
A father strange?

Francie arrived,
Then Eucheria,
But ten months later
Bold death took her.
Grief knows no borders
For brothers and sisters.

We left for Canada.

Mammy brought six kids along,
Leaving her dead behind,
Buried with Ireland.

Daddy was waiting for family,
Six months before Mammy got free
From death's inhumanity.
Her tears and griefs weren't yet over,
She birthed another son and daughter;
Jimmy and Marlene left us too,
Death is sure,
Death is cruel.

Grandchildren came, she was Granny,
Bridget, Nellie, but still our Mammy.
She lived this life eduring pain
That mothers bear,
Mothers sustain.
And yet, in times of personal strain,
I'll sometimes whisper her one name,
Mammy.

Could the Ireland of today ever have been foreseen
by those who gave their lives for this country in 1916?
Corruption and greed on a scale that is quite obscene
with the Irish people as oppressed as they have ever been.

The recession in Ireland was caused by the greedy few
Though our government must shoulder a lot of blame too
With the banks and developers they had a major role to play
But the ordinary people of Ireland were the only ones to pay!
It was a story, unfortunately, of pure unbridled greed
Which government collusion helped nurture and feed
But the most striking thing was the level of arrogance
As they lead the people of Ireland on a not so merry dance.
Thousands lost their jobs, became long term unemployed
Many of our children emigrated, the whole country cried
People lost their homes which they worked so hard to get
others took their lives, hounded mercilessly for a debt.
Not one ounce of help was given, many just could not cope
And the government’s strategy killed off any sense of hope
for the ordinary people who were already on their backs  
Got pay cuts, price increases, and every form of new tax.
Help was made available for the developers and  banks
Bondholders took huge profits without a word of thanks
But the people were subjected to extreme austerity
While those who caused the crisis walked away scot free.

After years of hardship the recession has come to an end
The global economy, it seems, very much on the mend
But in Ireland, alas, the recovery is slow
because there has been no major change in the status quo.
It is absolutely shameful after what people were put through
They made all the sacrifices, did all they had to do
Only to discover that things are very much the same
Those in power should hang their heads in absolute shame.
Recent revelations show how much of our money is being wasted
Developers profiting from NAMA now being investigated
So many Top ups being paid on already massive salaries
the banks being allowed to continue doing just as they please.
We all thought things would improve with the change of Government
But it is staggering to discover how much money they have spent
Setting up Irish Water where they have yet to spend much more
The cost of water charges for us, the people, continue to soar.
Experts agree this could have been done for millions less
But like Poolbeg, Irish Water is just another expensive mess.
Huge profits are being made in this by all the major players
Though the cost will be borne by you and me; the taxpayers.

No doubt there is much more that has yet to come to light
It does not take a genius to see that things are far from right.
The few continue to prosper while many struggle to live
They take most from those who have nothing more to give
While those responsible clearly seem to have no shame
Are we the people, by our inaction, somehow to blame?
Perhaps we should be thinking about a radical solution
Acquiescence has not worked but would a Revolution?