THE WHIT (Paul O達rien)


I知 sitting in an airplane; I知 going to be home soon

To celebrate the Whit Weekend, the first weekend in June

I知 missing the in-flight meals and complementary beer

I知 looking down at Ireland痴 Eye, as they lower the landing gear


Heading down through the clouds and out into the sun

The pilot on the intercom saying just how far we致e come

I looking at the stewardess with curls and floppy ears

And I知 putting my watch back twenty-seven years


Take me back aer lingus to the days of duty free

Take me back when wogan still worked for rte

Take me back, take me back, take me back again

Take me in your time machine, back to way back when


Back before the Celtic Tiger roamed in Darglewood

Before the Euro robbed us all and long before the flood

Before they built the highway, before they charged a toll

Before that Van the Man found his roots in Celtic Sour


You could watch the girls on Grafton Street from the comfort of your car

And you壇 never meet a tourist in that place called Temple Bar

You got your suit in Thomas Street down by Hairy Jim痴

And shirts were packed in cellophane with lots and lots of pins


I shut my eyes

We hit the ground

I listen for the flaps

A gentle sigh

I look around

Thank God that no-one claps


We致e stopped now at the terminal; it takes ages for to dock

At last the stewardess begins to fiddle with the lock

敵o raibh mile maith agat and 展e値l see you soon again

It痴 the only bit of Irish you値l be hearing all weekend


I知 coming down the gangway with my passport in my hand

Off down the escalator, feeling pretty grand

While I知 waiting for my baggage I take a quick look 喪ound

It doesn稚 take too long before both feet are on the ground