The folk who live in Backward Town

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Are inside out and upside down.

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They wear their hats inside their heads

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And go to sleep beneath their beds

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Belinda the cow was exceedingly vain

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She hated the sun and was timid of rain

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"I’m sure I’ll get freckled in this sunny place

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And I’m certain that rain is not good for the face"

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The camel’s hump is an ugly hump,

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Which well you may see at the zoo.

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But uglier yet is the hump that we get

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From having too little to do.

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In the darkness of the night

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Stood a lighthouse big and bright

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There it stood with blazing light

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Saving ships from endless night 

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Friday night is my delight

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And so is Saturday morning.

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But Sunday night – gives me a fright:

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There’s school on Monday morning.

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Monday morning. What a day

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Runs in stockings, hair astray;

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Teeth unbrushed: Mum does her bun,

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Rush to school, my shoes undone.

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Welcome, red and roundy sun

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Dropping lowly in the west;

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Now my hard day’s work is done,

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I’m as happy as the best.

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Down the long straight, the blue car comes.

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Mudguards rattle, and the engine hums.

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Past the dairy, and through the town,

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Driver is grinning, with his foot flat down.

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The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;

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She shines on thieves on the garden wall,

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On streets and fields and harbour quays,

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And birdies asleep in the forks of trees.

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Faded denim – blue suede shoes,

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Roxy music, jazz to blues,

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Sun-bleached hair, curled with care,

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Pony tail, swinging fair.

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Mise Raifterí an file

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Lán dóchas is grá

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Le súile gan solas

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Le ciúnas gan crá

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Oh what a worry when the gorse bushes catch!

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Somebody careless has dropped a match.

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Somebody careless let it fall down,

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Took no notice that the grass was brown

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I like noise.

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The whoop of a boy, the thud of a hoof,

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The rattle of rain on a galvanised roof.

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I like noise

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Imigh, a bheach bheag

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Chun aoibhnis an aeir

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Ná fan anseo a thuilleadh

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Ní hionad duit é

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I don’t like noise.

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The rattle and bang of a beat-up car,

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Hoots and honks that are heard from afar.

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Buses like dragons puffing out smoke;

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Dirty and stifling it makes you choke.

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Tá Tír na nÓg ar chul an tí

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Tír álainn trína chéile

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Lucht ceithre cos ag siúl na slí

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Gan bróga orthus ná léine

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Gan Béarla acu ná Gaeilge

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O cool is the valley now

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And there, love, will we go

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For many a choir is singing now

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Where Love did sometime go

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All day I hear the noise of waters Making moan

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Sad as the seabird is when going Forth alone

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He hears the winds cry to the waters' Monotone

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