To the great gaels of Ireland, the men whom God made mad:
For their songs of war are merry, and their songs of love are sad!
Sad or merry, singing or drinking (or both at once), bless them all for pushing back against the ridiculous pile of bureaucratic b.s. Brussels keeps shoving at them.
To the great gaels of Ireland, the men whom God made mad:
For their songs of war are merry, and their songs of love are sad!
Sad or merry, singing or drinking (or both at once), bless them all for pushing back against the ridiculous pile of bureaucratic b.s. Brussels keeps shoving at them.