Daniel McDonagh Poems

The shouts from within O’Malley’s was, we’re heading down to New Jersey,
Down to see the Celtic play in the good old USA,
We were stinking drunk and legless from drinking an ocean’s worth of Guinness
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Goodbye young Joseph, I will never see you grow
Or see you play football for the green, white and gold,
It pains my heart so dearly, but my days; they are but few,
However, when I close my eyes, I will always think of you.
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The Lark has lost the will to fly,
On Belfast’ streets, the mourners stand,
Britain’s hand has forced the death
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On Ireland’s land is were I stand
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James Connolly’s spirit
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The green flag of Connolly
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Ireland’s soil is soaked in blood,
Gravestones for a thousand heroes,
The tricolour fly’s in Ulster’s sky
Defying the imperialist foe.
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The old Hamden roar was raised once again
As heaven could hear the Celts singing,
Green banners flew high beneath Glasgow's sky
As the fans sang out for Jimmy Johnstone.
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Wouldn’t it be great to score a goal?
For the team you’ve always supported as a boy,
To wear the team colours, hear the fans chant your name,
To score the winning goal in a Scottish Cup Final game.
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I was one-step from heaven when I heard her shout,
Asking me if I was on my way out,
With my Celtic scarf hidden under my jacket,
I could not lie to the woman I just recently married.
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