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The Irish River

It flows through the center,
That Colligan river,
And as we plunder, work and hustle,
The women that grind, work and whistle,
That river meanders and fertilises,
As we try and do the same,
 
I once lost, and then found my name,
All in a worthless, soulless game,
Until I was reminded of anothers name,
My mind was always to blame,
Family, truth and ethic opened my eyes again,
 
Irishmen true to Irishwomen,
As we always were,
True to each river,
As water is to rain,
True to our women, we remain,
 
Kelly, McGowan, Kavanagh, Yeats,
We each carry our own heavy weights,
But our hearts are free to speculate,
While for her we will always wait,
And hope for our cause, we are not too late.

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