There's a wee bit of Irish that flows through my veins
In my blood is an Irishman's gene
And at certain times in the year it might seem
That part of my blood had turned green





To the home of the Irish I would like to return
I would like to go back there again
How would I return or how could I go back
To a land where I never have been?





So I will start counting the days up in March
I will stop when I reach seventeen
That day is well known here as Saint Patrick's Day
All the people turn out wearing green





There's corned beef and cabbage and green bottled beer
(In the South, even green are the grits)
Green candy, green bagels,even green eggs and ham
(If Dr. Seuss gives them permits)





So I will not plan, then, in Ireland to be
All the people have come over here
There's Murphy, O'reilly, McGinnis, McGee
(And the Leprechans, too, will appear)