Smoke & Strong Whiskey Christy Moore

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[Verse 1]
Kids wear white garters, and smell like their mothers
Whose husbands and fathers alike
Drink black beer in the same public houses
Smelling of smoke and strong whiskey

[Verse 2]
Mammies and daddies, skipping ropes
Lectures from priests, living in hope
That they’ve not mistaken the brand of their coats
They’ve paid for by spiritual teachings

[Verse 3]
A busy year this, streets running red
How many sent to their nuptial bed
How many sent home to a winter of graves
How many wait in for the slaughter

[Chorus]
Oh, oh, the holy ground
Céad míle failte, there’s saints and there’s scholars to see
Oh, oh, the holy ground
Faraway hills ain’t as green as they once used to be

[Verse 4]
It’s Easter again, and we cannot forget
Our brothers and sisters and all that was said
So practise your pipes, stand proud in the wet
For the eyes of the world are upon you