Jo, die Herren sind ziemlich gut. Aber in letzter Zeit zieh ich mir wieder Dropkick Murphys rein, die sind auch cool, ne irische Punkband. Die neue Version von Finnegan's Wake und The Spicy McHaggis Jig sind im Moment meine Favoriten.... Text gefällig?
The Spicy McHaggis Jig
- Music/Lyrics Dropkick Murphys-
I'll tell you a story, believe me it's true a tale you'd best hope never happens to you old spicy mcHaggis, how he met his fate you I can save, but for him it's too late
Spicy was big, burly and strong his pipes were gigantic, and so was his schlong from city to city running around looking for chicks over four hundred pounds
One night at the pub a girl caught his eye big as a house, just the right size the broad was enormous, stacked to the hilt spicy soon noticed a bulge in his kilt the piper delivered his best pick-up line thought to himself, "this beast is all mine" the portly young lady could stand for no more grabbed his cojones and went for the door
They got to her house and dimmed all the lights Spicy was in for one hell of a night he said that he loved her, he'd always be true "But Mr. McHaggis, I've only just met you!!"
By now he saw double through his drunken eyes neither had looks or appropriate size he came to his sense, thought to himself, "At this time of night I won't find nothing else" he took off his shirt, she lifted her skirt, they pulled out his unit and stared to play she asked for a glove, he gave her a shove, had baby McHaggis nine months to-the-day.
Three packs a day, he'll smoke 'til he dies Spicy McHaggis, one hell of a guy!
Finnegan's Wake
- Trad', arranged by the Dropkick Murphy's -
Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street, A gentle Irishman - Mighty Odd - He'd a beautiful brogue So rich and sweet, to rise in the world He carried a hod, You see He'd sort of a Trippling way: with love for a liquor Poor Tim was born, to help him on with His work each day, He'd a drop of the Craythor every morn'
One morning Tim was rather full, his head felt Heavy, which made him shake, fell from the Ladder and broke his skull, so they carried Him home, his corpse to wake, rolled Him up in a nice clean sheet, and laided Him upon the bed, A bottle of Whiskey At his feet, and a gallon of Porter At his head
chorus: And whack Fol-De-Dah now dance to your Partner, welt the floor, your trotters shake Wasn't it the truth I told Ye Lots of fun at Finnegan's Wake
His friends assembled at his wake And Missus Finnegan called for lunch First they brought in tea and cake Then pipes, tobacco and Whiskey Punch Biddy OBrien begged to cry, such a Nice clean corpse did you see Arrah hold your gob see Paddy Magee
chorus:
Then O Connor took up the job "Arrah!" Biddy says she Ye're wrong I'm Sure, Biddy then gave her a belt on The gob and left her sprawling on the Floor, there the war did soon engage Woman to Woman and Man to Man Shillelah-law was all the rage, an A Row and a Ruction soon began Mickey Maloney raised his head when a bottle Of Whiskey flew at him, it missed him falling on The Bed, the liquor scattered over Tim, Tim Revives, see how he rises, Timothy rising from the bed Whirl your Whisky around like blazes Tonamondeal, do ye think I'm dead
So richtig schöne Sauflieder
