She knows all the words to the right songs
though she sings them all slightly off key.
She runs through this world
in the wrong dress,
yet she walks in the room and the men turn to see
if it's her, and their girlfriends all elbow and stare,
sending dagger looks through pregnant air,
sulking, and flicking their hair.
Yet she never once means them a moment of harm
she'd not touch their men with her green Irish charm.
She goes her own way, and she's happy to play
on her own, if only your men,
felt the same, and would leave her alone.