Dying in Eire

DYING IN EIRE, 1953

I never saw the streetcar coming
Too many pints at Clancy's Pub
T’was a great funeral, people were there.
That SOB, Sean Finnegan, the bookie, showed up
Hit my wife up for 130 Quid I owed
Offered to fuck Molly for the debt.
Forgot the Trifecta I'd won, never paid
me having died that evening.

The winning ticket is here.
Vest pocket, brown tweed Sunday Suit.
I’m wearing under 8 feet of sod.
Sure as hell Molly is never going
to collect on my winning bet
unless they dig me up.

Rebecca Lyn was there crying.
I hope my wife didn’t figure that out.
Reb was alway crying.
Before and after, screaming like a banshee.
Oh my God, she loved my cock inside her.

Jack Kelly wasn't there at the funeral.
Died last fall, we'll meet up eventually?
I came to visit his daughter after he died.
Fucked her hard right in his bed.
She call out Jack, Jack, Jack...as
a torrent of cum filled her cunty.
Later, “I misspoke, don’t come again.”
But I did.

Danny MaGruder kept our secret.
We made love together
in the church attic.
He went off to fight for England in 1914.
Died in Flanders, buried there.
I still remember his devilish grin,
his rosy red cock's head
delightful to suck.
A life we might have lived.

Terry McFinny, the red headed whore
passed the church but didn’t stop
Countless times we fucked standing up
Her back against the stone wall.
We were just youngsters,
the fuck was free.
How did she lose her way?

I'm new to this state of death
Will I meet other spirits buried here?
Is there a Grand Hall where I’ll find Danny?
Is there sex after death?
If not this is rather boring
Confined to one’s memories.
Lying here in the dark underground.