Pull up a stool Boyo, Come hear a toast,
To the Irish in Wisconsin, With a Minnesota roast.
See, our kin folk left Ireland, When things weren’t so grand
Cause of the famine, and English, They came to this land where we stand.
But the dafter didn’t settle In this land that’s the best.
They stopped at the river, And then crossed on to the west.
Minnesota Irish, God help em’ Cause they’re just not that keen
They like to wear purple, When they ought to wear green!
An when they wear purple, It seems a bit queer.
That they canna hold their liquor, Not even their beer!
Wisconsin Irish know Sheepshead: T’is a card game that’s great!
But Minnesota Irish think It’s a hot, wooly date!
Our lads are hard-working, While their buggers are loafers,
And didn’t they know it? That Badgers eat Gophers!
An their lassies are homely, Skinny legs, boney knees,
Comes from eating too much walleye, And not enough cheese.
To Irish Americans: The best live right here!
God bless Ireland and Wisconsin And God bless our beer!
Cheers to you-every lad, lass, and dame
And all you scoundrels, Who have come to share our blame
Let’s raise up our drink And with a wee Irish wink
Let’s put those sausage eating Germans to shame
For on these very grounds They will soon gather round
But thanks to the Irish tonight Whose only fear is direct sunlight
Nothing but green, white, and orange can be found
Slainte` (Good life and health to you)