Living in HOYT with Irish roots

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What is Irish diplomacy? It's the ability to tell a man to go to hell, So that he will look forward to making the trip.

May I see you gray And combing your grandchildren's hair.

Now sweetly lies old Ireland Emerald green beyond the foam, Awakening sweet memories, Calling the heart back home.

It is better to exist unknown to the law.

May brooks and trees and singing hills Join in the chorus, too. And every gentle wind that blows Send happiness to you.

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[ Living in HOYT with Irish roots ].

May the face of every good news And the back of every bad news Be toward us.

Give an Irishman lager for a month, and he's a dead man. An Irishman is lined with copper, and the beer corrodes it. But whiskey polishes the copper and is the saving of him.

You're not too old when your hair turns gray. You're not to old when your teeth decay. But you'll know you're awaiting that final sleep, When your mind makes promises your body can't keep.

May those who love us, love us. And those that don't love us, May God turn their hearts. And if He doesn't turn their hearts, May he turn their ankles. So we'll know them by their limping.

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