She-Nanigans Celtic Rock

Oh! the door flew open wide at half past nine, And in stormed Maeve O’Malley with a roar like a banshee’s cry! Behind her strode the Viking girls, all braids and battle scars, Shouting, “Shift yer arse, ye eejits, we’re takin’ over this bar!” She Nanegans! The lasses rule the night again! With tankards high and wicked grins, Scarin’ off the bravest men. She Nanegans! Saint Paddy’s blessed the chaos here — So grab yer pint and guard yer rear! The women run the atmosphere! There’s Brij-id with her Celtic knots, tattooed from head to toe, She winked at some poor lad and said, “Come on now, have a go!” He fainted dead away before he even touched his stout, And the girls all laughed so hard the bartender threw them out! She Nanegans! The lasses rule the night again! With tankards high and wicked grins, Scarin’ off the bravest men. She Nanegans! Saint Paddy’s blessed the chaos here — So grab yer pint and guard yer rear, The women run the atmosphere! They danced upon the tabletops, They sang the ancient tunes, A Viking lass yelled, “Skowl, ye pups!” And chugged a pint by noon! A Druid girl cast “love spells” On every lad in sight — (Though mostly it just made them run And hide behind the light!) Now Granny Neev — a legend — Raised her cane and hollered, “Slana!” Then challenged half the tavern to a wrestling match for fun, yeah! She pinned three burly farmers with a single bony knee, And shouted, “Next one who doubts me will be kissin’ the floorboards, ye see!” She Nanegans! The lasses rule the night again! With tankards high and wicked grins, Scarin’ off the bravest men! She Nanegans! If chaos had a patron saint, It’d be these gals without restraint — So raise yer glass, no time to faint! She Nanegans! For this is Paddy’s Day, me friend, When sense and order meet their end, And every lass from Cork to Bray Goes wild in her own blessed way! So mind yer pint and mind yer pride — For the She Nanegans are worldwide!