The Irishman is never quite Contented with his little lot; He's ever thirsting for a fight, A grievance he has always got; And all his energy is bent On trying not to pay his rent.
He lives upon a frugal fare (The few potatoes that he digs), And hospitably loves to share His bedroom with his wife and pigs; But cannot settle even here, And gets evicted once a year.
In order to amuse himself, At any time when things are slack, He takes his gun down from the shelf And shoots a landlord in the back; If he is lucky in the chase, He may contrive to bag a brace.
_MORAL_
Procure a grievance and a gun And you can have no end of fun.
End of title
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