I look at the telly for the news to see
But look who's face is glaring back at me
That man, An Taoiseach, what's his name he was a TD,
I dislike that man's way of governing Ireland.
For the cruel, he means, and he does not understand.
He takes from the poor the same amount as the rich.
Now the poor have no homes and sleep in a ditch.
Some have died in doorways not far from the Dail.
Did he know? Does he care? Will he answer at all?
Since he was elected things have got more distressing.
For the young and the old find life so depressing.
He makes us pay for owning our homes.
He makes us pay for the developer loans.
He makes us pay for the bankers that did wrong.
In years to come our ballads singer will have a song.
For water, the poor and the rich are paying the same.
While in Dail Eireann he keeps passing the blame.
Then he brags about Ireland coming from the recession
I think he should in quick to chapel and go to Confession.
The light at the end of a tunnel will take time to filter down
As the rich gain their fortune the poor gain a frown
They try and pay for the water and everything else as well
So here is the sad story I felt I should tell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem