First Place
By Dawson

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
It’s time for some fun and some laughter,
So let’s raise our glass to the rafter!
But don’t over do, I’m tellin’ ya true,
‘Cause there’s always that damn’d mornin’ after!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
There’s a harp tent that’s just over yonder,
To go and enjoy you should ponder!
The music is great; the talent is fine,
And it’s ‘harpy hour’, all the time!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
So have great fun day and night long,
As you celebrate with Irish dance and song.
Get your Irish up, but slam a Guiness down!
It’s Irishfest, time to paint the town!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
To the Oktoberfest ‘Fossel’master and frau,
‘Tis no time for your “Ein Prosit” now!
If a polka you’d give us, I’d have to just stop you in the middle,
“cause it an Irish Jig we be needin’, with flute, harp and fiddle!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
I’m sure you be wondering what’ under my kilt,
And I’d love to share it, but woul have too much guilt!
And if I still dared to, they’d show me the door!
‘Cause I’m the ‘Commando-Commodore”!!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
May the sound of Irish music,
And the lilt of Irish laughter,
Fill you hearts with joy and gladness,
That stays forever after!

‘Tis Irishfest in LaCrosse, dear friends,
Where the Guiness tasted great
And the fun never ends!
Happy Irishfest 2009!! Slainte Mhath!!

Second Place
By Dan

Now here is my toast to folks of a local persuasion,
Let’s pause and reflect and honor them at this Irishfest of an occasion

First let us drink to the boss, of the city LaCrosse
That lads got oodles of energy and mirth,
But before you sit down to share with him a pint,
You might be checking his certificate of birth.

Then there’s Zach Brown, weatherman of town,
Who sent naughty emails to a journalist lass,
The man tracked him down, and Zach had a frown,
When they fired that colossal dumb-ass!

Lest we forget our neighbors to the west,
Them Minnesotans be jealous, cause Wisconsin is best.
N’ Inbreeding’s what Minnesotas known for,
There sisters and cousins be prime for the score.
But when your uncle and father are one and the same,
Is it no wonder Minnesotans are insane?
No surprises then when family’s your natural selection,
That it takes an extra eight months for comedian election.

Let’s drink now to Jon Stevenson, of 106 point 3
He’s king of the airwaves, and like a sister to me.
Transmitting your birthday from the towers above,
But poor Jon’s got a face, only his mother could love
See the thing about viewers, is that viewers can see.
That’s why Jon’s on the Radio, and Molly Nichols’ on TV.

Last but not least, Let us drink to the beast,
The kind with the shaggy black hair,
He just wanted to go to Irishfest,
Why’d they shoot that wee little bear?
Poor Bear, and he was stoked, all full of endorphins,
But he never did get to see, them Screaming Orphans.

So bottoms up, then bottoms down, we drink to LaCrosse, a hellava town.

Third Place
By Tim

Tis the good times of Irishfest
And all thru the grounds

The tri-color clad bartenders
pour large Guinness rounds

Outside at the games area
Four teams did tug o war test

Grenadiers, Riverfest
Mardi Gras Irishfest !

You from other fests with your tiny ropes come
We in green drug you thru the grass on your bum!

Back off all you hooligans, The Irish will give ‘er!
Cuz nothing’s as strong as an Irishman’s legs … or his liver !

So it’s over! Don’t cry ’bout beer that’s been spilt,
Now I want you to ponder what I wear under my kilt!