Handle on a Pint
HANDLE ON A PINT
Any good Irishman he can handle a pint or two,
Let it be to the barkeep to know the lads limit.
Then with each sip the smooth words begin to flow,
As a torrent running down from the river Shannon.
We begin now to lament those old memories,
Of the past loves who, each one held us close.
The lovely lasses to turn the eye of every lad,
Yet it was myself chosen to be her one true love.
So it was the two of us were to become as one,
A plan so ordained this fine day by God Himself.
Her eyes were jade green and hair red and flowing,
Tempering it all with her heart cast from pure gold.
So not a moment of my life may pass before me,
When my heart is not held by the hand of this lass.
For we are now deemed only one great love per life,
And I have found for myself the one which I’m sure.
So we share the many kisses and warm hugs together,
As many sunsets and sunrises come and go in our lives.
I lament not the life of no other young lad before me,
For I have received all I need to fill my eternal soul.
A fire slowly burns in our thatched roofed cottage,
And with lit pipe in my hand I callout to thank Him,
For He has given my heart a boundless fulfillment,
And the answer to all my dreams written in the book.
So the years may have taken off or two now,
Yet the kisses of my lovely lass are to me just as sweet.
So it is the years are quickly passing before us now,
We share a love given to us both by the Lord himself.
Aye it is a good omen to be a man of the Irish green,
Who was born from within the soil of our native land.
So someday soon we walk as one those golden streets,
On a promise made to us all by our God so long ago.
As I am holding the hand of this women of my life,
And we share the nectar of our eternal love as one.
T. Michael Daly (Pop. Irish)