Scratch and Grounder sings Drunken Irish Dad

Scratch: Oh, he doesn't smell like Irish Spring And he never taught me anything But still I slap my chest and sing Of my drunken Irish dad

Oh, his face looks like a railroad map And he never shuts his freakin' trap

Grounder: But all the ladies catch the clap From your drunken Irish dad

Scratch: Ask a Hennessey, Tennessey, Morrison, Shaughnessy, Riordan, and Rooney They'll tell you the same McNulty, Mulroney, and Carter and Clooney All feel the same mixture of pride and of shame

Grounder: Finnegan, Hannigan, Kelly, and Flanagan Look to the ground when their dad passes by Cafferty, Rafferty, Joyce and O'Lafferty Fight for his honor and then start to cry

Both: Oh, we Irish lads are all infirm And our moods infect us like a germ 'Cause we're all the spawn of a pickled sperm

spoken: Grounder: And we don't tan well either

All: From a drunken Irish dad