there's a dear little plant that grows in our isle
twas St Patrick himself sure that set it
and the sun on its raiment in splendour did shine
and the dew from his eye ofttimes wet it
It shines through the bog, through the muck and the mireland
and they called it the dear little shamrock of Ireland

the dear little shamrock
the sweet little shamrock
the dear little, sweet little
shamrock of Ireland

........ must remember not to drink this vile black stuff again.... it's making drag out really old songs.....