The country’s headed straight to Hell.
This truth is pretty much agreed.
The causes, though, we dare not tell.

Some want to blunder on, pell-mell.
Some utter prophecies to heed.
The country’s headed straight to Hell.

Oh, everybody knows the smell!
The maggots squirm, the roaches breed.
The causes, though, we dare not tell.

An evil wizard cast a spell.
His name was Abe, his motive greed.
The country’s headed straight to Hell.

How many knights in anguish fell!
What faltered? The heroic deed.
The causes, though, we dare not tell.

Were the slaves freed — or did we sell
as slaves those who had long been freed?
The country’s headed straight to Hell.
The causes, though, we dare not tell.

​You had fond memories of dismal days
and thus returned to Ireland when you could.
If only we could imitate your ways!

Turns out that unpaid labor truly pays.
You were enslaved and generated good.
You had fond memories of dismal days

as only heroes can. The lad who prays
may confidently do the deeds he should.
If only we could imitate your ways

of sainthood! We instead make vain displays
of piety in safety’s neighborhood.
You had fond memories of dismal days,

but we cling to our pleasures, begging praise
for tiny things. At ease in this dark wood,
if only we could imitate your ways!

​Well, we’re mere sheep — and thus content to graze.
We listened — but we never understood.
You had fond memories of dismal days.
If only we could imitate your ways!