Malachy Irish Descendants

I was making my way down Brafton street, my head was in a spin
Not knowing my destination, not knowing where I'd been
The world and all it's pressures kept forcin' me to rush
I stepped inside old Malachy's place and felt a soothing hush

Malachy stood behind the bar dressed in his apron white
A philosopher of sort, he claimed, and sometimes he was right
A curious combination of poet and of sage
Yet he had a healthy outlook you won't find on any page

Chorus
He said, "Sit down, what's your hurry? No need to move so fast
Life will offer you many things, and some that may not last
The things that we ought to cherish and search for till the end
Are the moments we chance upon, like the beauty of the setting sun
And I haven't met a man yet I cannot call my friend."

"I've made some observations of this species we call man
Some clear miscalculations have been drifting from the plan"
Malachy pulled another pint, delighted when I asked
"What's this plan you speak about?" He said, "About the task

Of giving his philosophies and sharing his own views
Of life and all it's secrets, so recognized by few
A simple affirmation to live by day to day
He placed his elbows on the bar, and then I heard him say