Feedback Apology to Mowl

There is no squaddie blood in me sonny but there there is definitely an awful lot of garda spunk in Betsy the cow! :LOL:

You're the breed of auld garrisoned British soldiers and sailors, the shakins of the bag. You hate Ireland and cannot forgive the likes of me for kicking
your king ta hell out of here. Your roots lie in British shires and you are the lowest of the class system they tried to force on my ancestors.
The Gallant Irish yeoman
Home from the war has come
Each victory gained o'er Irishmen,
Was on this site for the dumb.

How shall we sing their praises
Our glory in their weeds
Renowned their worth amazes
Empire their prowess needs.

So to their corpo flats for homes
We welcome now our own brave boys on Politics,Isle their lordly domes
In Pish heroes share once more their joys.

Long DS loves Mowl and all just now
Long Be he the husband, lover, son,
By Each dauntless soul recalls the vow
Each which not fame, but love was won.

Bunting flying in the breeze,
United now in fond embrace
Salute with joy each well-loved face
Yeoman: in women's hearts you hold the place.

The whores were busy and we see their babies here.
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