North Or South?

North or South?
There's only one.
You did say Ireland?
I did.
North or South?
There's still only one.

Some would cotton on, some would look at me all queer like. For the latter, I would tell them I didn't want to send me parcel to "the North of Ireland."

So you want to send it to Southern Ireland?
Well I want to send it to the South of Ireland.
So it's going to Southern Ireland?
There's only one.
Where is you want to send the parcel to?
The South of Ireland, County Cork to be exact.
Right, County Cork Southern Ireland.
No, County Cork in the South of Ireland.
First or second?
First.
That'll be three pounds sixty five.

And all the time yer man behind the counter, for I can see it in his eyes, is thinking 'I've got a right idiot here' when all the time, given the conversation we've just been having, should be thinking, 'What kind of eejit is it that I'm serving here?'  but he's not; what harm?

And it's a lie I would be telling ye if that's not the game I would be playing every time I was sending a bit of something to Ireland, for there's still only one.
There'd be the six counties in the North of Ireland, that still fly that much reviled flag of empire, but geographically and morally, if not politically, there's still only one.

Now I'd be hoping that there'd be no whore mad enough to be waving one this Saturday, for there's something a bit special going to be going off at Croke Park this Saturday, yer see the English are going to be there, though it's invited that they are, there be a lot of folk remembering the last time they came team handed there'd be no such invitation at all at all.

Now leaving mad whore's out of it, there going to be at least one flag of empire, and sure that'd be one more than a lot folk would be wanting, and if the flag is as welcome as a bag o'spuds gone bad, then what's folk going to be feeling when the English start singing about the owd bitch who's previous family members reigned over the Irish far too long, and far too victorious for anybodies liking, in fact I would say there going to be vexed, fierce vexed in fact.

Then there be the Hill, now I can't see the GAA allocating Hill tickets to the English, but why do I have this little vision of some cute whore touting a bunch of Hill tickets to a bunch of locked English fans just for devilment.

For haven't I stood on that hallowed Hill meself, and the view is mighty, and the craic it's ninety. But then isn't it a frustrated Irishman that I am? I just happened to be born in England of English parents. Not so very much unlike the fellow I'd be knowing, the staunchest of Republicans that was born this side of the water and he adopted the philosophy, that being born in a stable doesn't make ye a donkey. Well he would have to now wouldn't he?

So what was I doing on the Hill meself? Watching me first Hurling match, and at the intervals it was watching the sunlight shine through the flimsiest of skirts that the young creature in front of me was wearing, a home-made bit of thing in the Offlay colours, sure to this day I don't know how I stopped meself from taking huge bites at her arse, she was a treasure.

Now where was it that I was? ah the Hurley, if you're going to watch a match what better than
the All Ireland Final, Offlay versus Kilkenny, Sure it was a grand day altogether, it was "The Finesht"

Well what started out to be a political rant seems to have turned into, I don't know what, a bit of a story I suppose, that's the land of the faeries for ye, that's Ireland, and there's still only one.

Well nearly. Tiocfaidh ár lá