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They say that the lakes of Killarney are fair
That no stream like the Liffey can ever compare
If its water you want you`ll find nothing more rare
Than the stuff they make down by the ocean
The sea oh the sea is the gradh geal mo croide
Long may it stay between England and me
It`s a sure guarantee that some hour we`ll be free
Oh thank God we`re surrounded by water
Tom Moore made his Waters meet fame and renown
A great lover of anything dressed in a crown
In brandy the bandy old Saxon he`d drown
But throw ne`er a one in the ocean
The Scots have their Whisky the Welsh have their speech
And their poets are paid about ten pence a week
Provided no hard words on England they speak
Oh Lord what a price for devotion
The Danes came to Ireland with nothing to do
But dream of the plundered old Irish they slew
Yeh will in yer Vikings said Brian Boru
And threw them back into the ocean
Two foreign old monarchs in battle did join
Each wanting his head on the back of a coin
If the Irish had sense they`d drowned both in the Boyne
And partition thrown into the ocean