From the Southside of Dublin
The poshest part of town
She’s thought to be a Princess
But doesn’t own a crown
No joke, she is a winger
I’m going home to have a rest
Yet down at Durty Nelly’s Sydney
She gave to us her best
I’ve never worked so hard she’d say
This place is too extreme
And every time I’d pass her by
You’d think she’s in a dream
Her smoking really pissed me off
Just like the rest we know
I’d tell her that in years to come
You’ll be crook from head to toe
Loved folding up the napkins
This too did come to pass
As all of her relationships
That sat her on the arse
Be not dismayed, this Dublin girl’s
A sight to see and reach
When she got burned from top to bottom
Down at Bondi beach
Bedecked in all her finery
Make up, bag and all
When she went out at night for fun
You’d think she’s ten foot tall
But home she goes to cold and rain
To the family and the brudder
Let’s hope that she is welcomed back
Our Niamh without a rudder
Mike Nissen
14 March 2005
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