We’ll show the World we’re drinkers on Arthur’s Day.
Not gentlemen or thinkers on Arthur’s Day.
We’ll puke in our hands and piss where we stand, and we’ll fill the A&E wards, we’ll binge and minge talk shite all night in Ireland in our hordes on Arthur’s Day.
We’ll reinforce the stereotype on Arthur’s Day, that the Paddy is a guttersnipe on Arthur’s Day.
A bestial dog just up from the bog no manners in his head. We’ll drink and stink and curse and worse and soil our sodden beds on Arthur’s Day.
We’ll leave the streets in tatters on Arthur’s Day. Cos drink is all that matters on Arthur’s Day.
We’ll raise a glass, fall on our ass and never give a damn, or have a bother that we’re all just fodder for an advertising scam on Arthur’s Day.
Down with Arthur’s Day.
Waterboy Mike Scott pulls no punches with his feelings on Arthur’s Day.
Listen responsibly.
(Laura Hutton/Photocall Ireland)
Meanwhile…
Oscar’s bar in Smithfield, Dublin.
Oh, it’s very much ON.
Thanks Niall
