Ulster Lunacy Poem by Liam ó Comáin

Shoot the assistant in the shop
She's a 'pape' not worth a pop.

Blow the legs off the civil servant
In the cause of a national parliament.

Shoot the joy riders in the car
Do it now before they travel far.

Smash the hands of the imbecile
Then no more will he ever steal.

Blow up the baby in the pram
It was an accident claimed a man.

Curfew the town said the khaki trooper
These paddies need a bloody whooper.

Grab their testicles said the burly cop
That will ensure the words will pop.

We will not agree said the politician
While day by day we face perdition.