Of all the things I ever did
And on all the things I held so dear,
Ever all I wanted to accomplish,
To pen a rhyme an Irishman held near.
A song to sing to begin the spring
Or a lament to raise a pint to.
Like rebels before who held the door
So that we could march right through.
And many will say I am not in that way,
Born on Erin's emerald isle.
But my heart's as green as e'er been seen
And my heritage I cling to all the while.