Now the snake slithered down from the pulpit
(Expectin' St. Patrick to die),
But yer man was no dozer - he lifted his crozier
An' he belted the snake in the eye.
And he says till the snake, 'Listen legless!
You'd just better take yerself aff!
If you think that that trick will work with St. Patrick
You must be far worser nor daft!'
So the snake slithered home in a temper
An' it gathered its friends all aroun'
An' it says, 'Listen, mates! We'll get on wer skates,
I reckon it's time to leave town!
It's no fun when you bite a big fella
An' sit back and expect him to die
An' he's so flamin' quick with thon big, crooked stick
That he hits ye a dig in the eye!'
So a strange sight confronted St. Patrick
When he woke up the very next day.
The snakes with long faces were all packin' their cases
An' headin' for Donegall Quay.
Some got on cheap flights to Majorca
And some booked apartments in Spain.
They were all headin' out and there wasn't a doubt
That they weren't going to come back again.
So the reason the snakes left old Ireland,
(An' this is no word of a lie).
They all went to places to bite people's faces
And be reasonably sure that they'd die.
An' the out snakes still caution their grandsons,
'For God's sake beware of St. Pat!
An' take yerselves aff if you see his big staff,
An' his cloak, an' his big pointy hat!'
Crawford Howard
- Belfast
