Oh Paddy's Day the craic, the ceol,
The day in the year when you can forget the dole,
Forget life's struggle, forget life's toil,
Oh haven't you heard we've just struck oil.

Exports are growing or so they say,
But the exports are people who leave each day,
We are where we are politicians proclaim,
This lost generation is Ireland's shame.

Forced to flee by the businessman's greed,
Forced to seek the future they need,
The Government forgets it's us they serve,
With their patting of backs they've some fechin nerve.