Capitalist drinking song

Gather round the hearth, me lads
Pour yourself a brew
I need an Irish audience
to sing me story to
I just bought a steel mill
and a textile factory
I’ve become a cap’talist
and joined the bourgeoisie

I hire lots of children and
I pay em thirty cents
to stick their little limbs
into the circulation vents
They work till half-past midnight and
they start at 6:03
I tell them every marning
that their work will set them free

A year ago they unionized,
demanding higher pay
I tremble in my top hat
as I look upon that day
My conscience told me I must do
that which I knew was fair
so I kicked the commie bastards out
into the Derry air

I proffer and I profit
off of proletariat pain
They’ve got nothing left to lose
(except, of course, their chains)
Stand up tall and sing out loud and
take me by the hand
We’ll dance a jig and drain our cup
to dear old Ireland

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