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LUCK OF THE IRISH Not far from our beloved bonnie Isle of heathery paradise 'Twould be just our dreadful luck, lowland of the vile Irish lies Who drown bad whiskey in caffeine’s cup of the uncouth barbarian Without repentance from such depravity of Presbyterian-less sin While in our bonnie land o’ grace, the pride of our fearless clan Imbibe in rounds of fair heaven that clearly set us apart from such heathen And as those savage Irish infidels of miscreant Catholic idolatry Drown their contemptible wretched brew in a full cup of coffee iniquity The separation of cultured gentlemen becomes quite plain for all to see For the refined Scotsman in the best whiskey, tosses in a wee bit o’ tea
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