Belles of Ireland

Yes, she does a fancy jig

Her heart in the hills her head in the sky

Always teaching; always preaching her spirit will never die

She is a maiden but not a twig

She’ll always be strong; she’ll always do right

She never dulls down; she always gets up she’s a star in blackened night

So how do you stop her endless quest

She puts all logic to the test

Because she’ll fight though she’s a lass

She knows men’s time is soon to pass

Her spirit is something never broken

Strong and powerful much like a storm

So sweet so kind; she begs you not to mourn

She keeps her thoughts ‘cause they’re her token

Her trophy against the world of man

Now I warn ne’er go against the Belle of Ireland

She’ll beat you black; she’ll stomp you blue

I’d leave her be if I were you

For she’s got a mind that’s all her own

And she will always drive her message home

So how do you bring down such a rowdy girl

Can’t you just crown her and give her pearls?

Must you do something most men would not

Then leave her be to worms and rot?

Or can you simply let her run

With such zest her face to the sun?

Or could it be something so simple

For to calm one so strong and nimble

That all you must do is ring the hand

To claim the Belle of Ireland?