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Song Parodies -> "The Irish Potato Famine"
Original Song Title:
"Sk8er Boi"
Original Performer:
Avril Lavigne
Parody Song Title:
"The Irish Potato Famine"
Parody Written by:
Sweet Indigo
The Lyrics
I really hate this song, but I got kind of sick of reading the same old parodies of it (Avril bashing, Avril loving...) and wanted to see if I could at least attempt a good version that didn't have the same theme. And here it is, not funny at all, but it's kinda hard to make extreme famine and my fellow Brits not leaping to the aid of our Irish neighbours a particularly amusing subject. Consider it an experiment. My source was Wikipedia
Four tiny boys
and five little girls
Could I have become more impoverished?
We eat this junk
It doesn't pay
Potatoes all day
Sing Catholic hymns
And not go to Hell
Growing potatoes and pigs to sell
Out on our plot it's all that we grow
We don't complain about our raggy clothes
Life's a potato ploy
We hope for some later joy
Or a little more by way of girth
We have a tiny place, hoping for Britain's grace
But then a blight has struck our earth...
Three years from now
There's no one at home
Britain had left us to die alone
Had no defence for this disease
Potatoes were all clones genetically
And all of my friends
Decided to go
Life here had hit an all-time low
I went along
The ships full of crowds
Looks like there's still illness going round...
What measures to employ?
Just hope for later joy
And for an answer to our prayer
So we've been sailing far
Off to America
Maybe they'll know what we're worth
So the Brits had let us down
You stayed too long out of town
You were too slow to defend
And you've never been our friend
Laws had made it hard to see
What more hope left there could be
Not much more could we abide
Couldn't just stay there to die
I took my boys
And I took my girls
We couldn't become more impoverished
We left our home
And went with the herd
And then fled to the New World
So long potato ploy
Still hope for later joy
Off to America we will go
I'll sail across the sea
Hope to see Liberty
And not the curse on all I grow...
and five little girls
Could I have become more impoverished?
We eat this junk
It doesn't pay
Potatoes all day
Sing Catholic hymns
And not go to Hell
Growing potatoes and pigs to sell
Out on our plot it's all that we grow
We don't complain about our raggy clothes
Life's a potato ploy
We hope for some later joy
Or a little more by way of girth
We have a tiny place, hoping for Britain's grace
But then a blight has struck our earth...
Three years from now
There's no one at home
Britain had left us to die alone
Had no defence for this disease
Potatoes were all clones genetically
And all of my friends
Decided to go
Life here had hit an all-time low
I went along
The ships full of crowds
Looks like there's still illness going round...
What measures to employ?
Just hope for later joy
And for an answer to our prayer
So we've been sailing far
Off to America
Maybe they'll know what we're worth
So the Brits had let us down
You stayed too long out of town
You were too slow to defend
And you've never been our friend
Laws had made it hard to see
What more hope left there could be
Not much more could we abide
Couldn't just stay there to die
I took my boys
And I took my girls
We couldn't become more impoverished
We left our home
And went with the herd
And then fled to the New World
So long potato ploy
Still hope for later joy
Off to America we will go
I'll sail across the sea
Hope to see Liberty
And not the curse on all I grow...
I should add, to the credit of my countrymen, that the British did provide famine relief for the Irish but there were many stupid conditions (like you had to be really really poor, not just a bit poor) that meant that it didn't help as much as it should...
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User Comments
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As you say, not one to rate highly in the humour stakes but a good parody nevertheless.
Thanks a lot :)
The way I was taught about this at school was that parliament never grasped the scale of what was going on: they simply didn't realize that it was a disaster, thinking it was just a relative few Irish voices overhyping how bad things were. Some of the politicians of the day *never* accepted just how bad things had got. Anyway, it's a fine parody, and a substantial and welcome change from the usual Avril parody material.
Uill, ceart gu leòr. Th'e math, ach chan eil mi cinnteach... le h-eachdraigh, chan eil mi cho math, ach math a dh'aon chuid. Chan eil Gaeilge agam, ach tha Gàidhlig agam, leis an sin, 's urrainn dhomh rudeigin mar Gaeilge bhruidh'nn... beagan... chan e h-Èireannach a th'annam, gu dearbh, ach tha mi eòlach air rudaneigin Èireannacha...
Thanks Phil, that's exactly what I was trying to do :) Yeah, the version you learnt makes a lot of sense. Diddims: sorry, I don't understand :(
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