The Migrant Workers of Ireland

______________

They are moving
Slipping in and out
Gentle girls yapping a syrup of curled English
Their half-moon eyes hanging from the heavens above
Dusty boys stretched on the late bus

 

When they started coming here at first
Town meetings were held to protest
And all across the country
Lynch mobs gathered

 

Now we would be lost without them
They are the very brightest lights around
Notwithstanding all the work they undertake
We would be broken-hearted if they ever went away