Tired of all this Irish luck
so bad luck get some good
Go march down by the Sally Waters
sweep up some karma with your cinnamon broom
From rednecks to Russians
there is slight solace in the defeat of even the
foggiest of windshields
Not when there ain't no saints marching
in this Brazen Woman's buxom bosom.
Tired of all this Irish luck
so bad luck get
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