>thinly veiled this

Really? On MY /tg/?

>>8413789

No, I honestly could use the help. Normally, I'm alright at this, but tonight my mind is failing me.

Bumpin'

There are five basic topics for Irish music, those being:
1. Women
2. Sailing
3. Drinking
4. Fighting
5. Hating the English

Basically, choose between one and five of these, and concoct a situation in which all of them are satisfied, then drunkenly slur it while playing a fiddle.

For example: on account of (1) the English our protagonist is being (2) shipped to South Australia and must leave (3) Miss Nancy Claire behind.

Once you have this basic technique down, simply add a sixth topic: Zombies.

So, for example, perhaps two men fight over a women and one kills the other, but then his zombie stalks him across the seas.

Or an Irishman finally and inevitably drinks himself to death (perhaps because of a woman), but his thirst is so great that he continues to drink as a zombie.

Or maybe there's a liquor so potent that would kill any living man but can restore the zombified to life?

Listen to The Pogues, Flogging Molly, and The Dubliners for further ideas.

>>8413881

Wow, that's pretty helpful, thanks. Just when I was thinking you guys were going the way of /v/, /tg/ helps get shit done again.

A good theme to go with hating the English is revenge against the English. You could write a song about the English regiment that came to oppress a group of Irish, and ended up being eaten by the zombies of those they came to kill.

So you need a zombie themed irish folksong?

The challange. is accepted.

>>8414049

I read your post with a sense of foreboding. By starting this thread, have I created a monster?

Bumping

The Pogues "Sally MacLennane" with some slight changes, hopefully somebody more creative makes some OC.

Well Jimmy played harmonica in the pub where I was born
He played it from the night time to the peaceful early morn
He soothed the souls of zombies and the men who had the horn
And they all looked very happy in the morning

Now Jimmy didn't like his place in this world of ours
Where the elephant man smashed zombies heads
When he'd had too many Powers
So sad to see the grieving of the people that he's leaving
And he took the road for God knows in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away
I'd like to think I'll be returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

>>8414185

The years passed by the times had changed I grew to be a man
I learned to love the virtues of sweet Sally MacLennane
I took the jeers and drank the beers and crawled back home at dawn
And ended up a barman in the morning

I played the pump and took the hump and watered whiskey down
I talked of whores and zombies to the men who drank the brown
I heard them say that Jimmy's slaying zombies far away
And some people became zombies without warning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away
I'd like to think I'll be returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

When Jimmy came back home he was surprised that they were gone
He asked me all the details of the train that they went on
Some people they are scared to croak but Jimmy drank until he choked
And he became a zombie in the morning

We walked him to the station in the rain
We kissed him as we put him on the train
And we sang him a song of times long gone
Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again
sad to say I must be on my way
So buy me beer and whiskey 'cause I'm going far away
I'd like to think I'll be returning when I can
To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane

>>8414198
>>8414185
FOOKING SAD IRISH SONGS

>>8414253

Protip: It's upbeat. Also Sally MacLennane is a beer.

Well walkin' with my bonny
Out upon the bay
I came upon a little man
Who said t'me goodday
And to this little man
I tipped my had and said
Excuse me, my fine sir
You appear to be quite dead.

Well..
He grabbed me up 'round the neck and cracked me on the head, to give me up a nasty bite 'afore I turned and fled!

I had to stop a runnin' when I looked down to see, my feet and face were on the floor and that's when he yelled to me.

There ain't no livin' my fine lad, just 'cause you're alive! Y'fight and ya drink and ya eat and ya breathe, just so you survive! But when you get up out of bed to find yourself's been stricken dead, that's when you know my booooy...

You really begin to thrive!

Get yourself a mug and stein and drink until you please! You won't get sick, you won't fall down; you'll hold it in with ease! And since y'don't need to breathe, you don't need to stop; just tip that keg up to your lips..

...Y'still got lips, don't you boy?

And drink down every drop!

'Cause I tell ya!

There ain't no livin' my fine lad, just 'cause you're alive! Y'fight and ya drink and ya eat and ya breathe, just so you survive! But when you get up out of bed to find yourself's been stricken dead, that's when you know my booooy...

>>8414275

You really begin to thrive!

But that ain't half the best part, 'bout havin' no more pulse. Me and you, ain't it true, you can't say it's false; who doesn't love to put 'em up, and knock a fella out? There's nothing like a bonny fight to make the boys all shout.

But ain't it tiresome, all that pain and hurt? And you take too many wallops, and they put
you in the dirt? Well let me tell you one more thing 'bout this gift of ours; we can take and
we can punch for endless wakin' hours! (Heh, might lose an arm or two, though!)

So I'll say again!

There ain't no livin' my fine lad, just 'cause you're alive! Y'fight and ya drink and ya eat and ya breathe, just so you survive! But when you get up out of bed to find yourself's been stricken dead, that's when you know my booooy...

You really begin to thrive!

And to close me off this little tale, 'bout your new-found state.. There's one thing, we good lads,
we all hafta hate.. When you find yourself a pretty gal, and dream that you might wed.. And then one lone and raindy day, she's with your mate instead. Well can't you just run up, and give her a little nip on the head? Because one thing, I'll tell ya boy..

Nobody'll swipe her if she's dead!

>>8414269
...Well that puts a whole new fucking spin on it.

I thought that Jimmy died, Sally Maclennane was his bonny lass, and that the little boozer was supposed to be his bastard son.

I'm sure Whose Line is it Anyway? has done a zombie Irish drinking song.

>>8414275
>>8414279

OP here.

OH WOW. That's... great! There is officially OC ITT.

>>8413881 Flogging Molly
You are officially the coolest Anon of the day.

>>8414309

Glad I could help!

>>8414309
OP, Flogging Molly literally has a song called "May The Living Be Dead (In Our Wake)"

I suggest checking it out.

>>8414362
http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/floggingmolly/maythelivingbedeadinourwake.html

A tale of a young man who travels the world, who has the misfortune of ALWAYS running into zombies...

Well I've drunk to drown, on every ocean I've been
Lake Tanganyika, where the crocodiles swim
Halifax, Nova Scotia to Van Diemen's land
Well I drank with the Sultan, down the Suez Canal

Cause Every Dog Has Its Day
Like every woman, she gets her own way
And if there's a ship that sails tonight
I'll captain that too, just to be there with you

Well there was old Jerry Rooney, who was dead as a doorknob
Spillblood Maloney's chest was a red rosy blob
That night on the bridge, with my shovel in hand
Well they threatened to kill me, for sure he picked the wrong man

Cause Every Dog Has Its Day
Like every woman, she gets her own way
And if there's a ship that sails tonight
I'll captain that too, just to be there with you

Well there was plague in Lagos, aboard the mean ship Skondi
Ten or twelve days of hell, till the bastards were all dead
McCloskey you're not dead!

Cause Every Dog Has Its Day
Like every woman, she gets her own way
And if there's a ship that sails tonight
I'll captain that too, just to be there with you

Now I love the sea and she wants me back
So I leave this ol' harbor, with the wind at my back
Goodbye mother Theresa, I hope the kids settle down
I must head for the Chinas, pray to God I don't drown

For Every Dog Has Its Day
Like every woman, she gets her own way
And if there's a ship that sails tonight
I'll captain that too

Cause Every Dog Has Its Day
Like every woman, she gets her own way
And if there's a ship that sails tonight
I'll captain that too, just to be there with you

Me and me brother were drinking one night
And what started as friendship it ended in fight
For in to the pub walked the fairest young lass
And I said to me brother I shall be poundin' that ass
But me brother he yelled "No I saw her first!"
And said "then let us get fighting after we slake all our thrist!"

Me brother and I we were drunk off our heads,
and all that we wanted was a young girl to bed!
But out of the street we went fighting instead,
an' I struck him to hard so he fell down dead.

Chorus:
Oh me brother me brother, I miss you so
That It'd end this I way I couldn't know
What should I tell your kids and your wife
If only I could bring you back into life

But as soon as I'd said it the corpse replied with a moan,
But was it me brother, who had left me and gone?
As it stood up again I filled my trousers with pee,
For me brother hath returned as a zombee!

Chorus:
Oh me brother Me brother, I miss you so
That It'd end this I way I couldn't know
But now I am here, raised back up again
And it would make things better if I could eat up your brain.
(I'm not drunk, nor Irish, so cut me some slack.)

In South Australia I was slain
Heave away, haul away
In South Australia by an English man
Hellbound in South Australia

Haul away you rotten bones
Heave away, haul away
Haul away you'll hear me moan
We're Hellbound in South Australia
(repeat after each verse)

As I shambled out one evenin' fair
Heave away, haul away
Oh I chanced to meet my murder'r
Hellbound in South Australia

Well I ate him up and I ate him down
Heave away, haul away
An' dragged his corpse all round the town
Hellbound in South Australia

The one thing that still grieves my mind
Heave away, haul away
It's to leave my Nancy Claire behind
Hellbound in South Australia

Well I miss my Nancy Claire's embrace
Heave away, haul away
Next night I crept to her sleepin' place
Hellbound in South Australia

I meant to give 'er just one kiss
Heave away, haul away
It's hunger that made me do this
Hellbound in South Australia

Well Nancy Claire I'll always mourn
Heave away, haul away
An' now I wish to Christ I'd never been reborn
Hellbound in South Australia

>>8414488
>>8414464

Wow, thanks, way more response than I was expecting. Now to put them all to tunes that AREN'T the WIILA "Irish Drinking Song" thing.

A poor bastard tries to fight a bonny lass he met at the pub, but ends up dyin' on the Devil's Dance Floor...

"Devil's Dance Floor"

Her breath began to reek
As she stood right in front of me
The colour of her eyes
Were the colour of insanity
Crushed beneath her gave
Like a ship, I could not reach her shore
We're all just dancers on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Pressed against her face
I could smell her, dead and putrid
Her mother'd been a dead lass
And her father was hatred

*Girl moans, drops arm*

But nothin' ever came
From a life that was a simple one
So pull yourself together girl
And have a little fun

*cont*

>>8414579
Well she took me by the throat
I could see she was a fierce one
Her legs ran all the way
Up to heaven and past Avalon

*Girl shrieks, claws at Bard*

Tell me somethin' girl, what it is you have in store
She said 'nary a word as she dragged me down
On the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

The scent now is rank
Oh much ranker than it ought to be
Another little bite
I don't think there is much hope for me
The blood beneath her chin
Travels all the way
An' headin' south
This bleedin' heart's cryin'
Cause there's no way out

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

Well swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, a little more next to me
Swing a little more, little more o'er the merry-o
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor
Swing a little more, on the Devil's Dance Floor

>>8414582
>>8414579
...I like that song's original version.

And now I am imagining it being sung zombie-fashion.

feels bad, man. I want sex, not death ;_;

Zombie I hardly knew ye

A zombie version of Tell Me' Ma:

I'll tell me ma when I go home,
The dead won't leave the livin' alone.
They ate my flesh, they gnaw'd my bone,
But that's alright when I go home.

She is handsome, she is prety,
She's the only one alive in Belfast city,
She is a hiding. One. Two. Three
Please won't you tell me where is she?

Now Albert Mooney says he sees her,
All the boys are shamblin' for her.
Knockin' down the door and raisin' hell,
Carryin' round that awful smell

Down she comes with an akimbo grip
Pistols in her hand and mags on her hip
Old Johnny Murphy says she'll die
If she doesn't shoot the fellow with the missin' eye.

Let the wind and the rain and the hail come high,
And the snow come shoveling from the sky.
She's ed-ible as apple pie,
An' she'll get worn out by and by!

When she's ate down to the bone
She won't tell her ma when she comes home.
So let them all come give chase
But it's Patrick Murphy that's lyin' in wait

Because sometimes real drinking songs are best:

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk, and they ain't got sober yet;
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

Chorus:

That's how they showed their respect for Paddy Murphy
That's how they showed their honour and their pride;
They said it was a sin and shame and they winked at one another
And every drink in the place was full the night Pat Murphy died

As Mrs. Murphy sat in the corner pouring out her grief
Kelly and his gang came tearing down the street
They went into an empty room and a bottle of whiskey stole
They put the bottle with the corpse to keep that whiskey cold

About two o'clock in the morning after empty'ing the jug
Doyle rolls up the ice box lid to see poor Paddy's mug
We stopped the clock so Mrs. Murphy couldn't tell the time
And at a quarter after two we argued it was nine

They stopped the hearse on George Street outside Sundance Saloon
They all went in at half past eight and staggered out at noon
They went up to the graveyard, so holy and sublime
Found out when they got there, they'd left the corpse behind!

Oh the night that Paddy Murphy died, is a night I'll never forget
Some of the boys got loaded drunk and they ain't been sober yet;
As long as a bottle was passed around every man was feelin' gay
O'Leary came with the bagpipes, some music for to play

Chorus between it verse.

>>8415975
Obviously, not Zombied up. But it shouldn't be hard to incorporate it.

Mostly, I think the idea of a bottle of whiskey with a corpse to keep it cold is awesome.

And a Tom Lehrer song (someone I've considered basing a bard off in the past) which also includes a little cannibalism.

About a maid I'll sing a song,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
About a maid I'll sing a song
Who didn't have her family long.
Not only did she do them wrong,
She did ev'ryone of them in, them in,
She did ev'ryone of them in.

One morning in a fit of pique,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
One morning in a fit of pique,
She drowned her father in the creek.
The water tasted bad for a week,
And we had to make do with gin, with gin,
We had to make do with gin.

Her mother she could never stand,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
Her mother she cold never stand,
And so a cyanide soup she planned.
The mother died with a spoon in her hand,
And her face in a hideous grin, a grin,
Her face in a hideous grin.

She set her sister's hair on fire,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
She set her sister's hair on fire,
And as the smoke and flame rose high'r,
Danced around the funeral pyre,
Playin' a violin, -olin,
Playin' a violin.

>>8416014
She weighted her brother down with stones,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
She weighted her brother down with stones,
And sent him off to davy jones.
All they ever found were some bones,
And occasional pieces of skin, of skin,
Occasional pieces of skin.

One day when she had nothing to do,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
One day when she had nothing to do,
She cut her baby brother in two,
And served him up as an irish stew,
And invited the neighbors in, -bors in,
Invited the neighbors in.

And when at last the police came by,
Sing rickety-tickety-tin,
And when at last the police came by,
Her little pranks she did not deny,
To do so she would have had to lie,
And lying, she knew, was a sin, a sin,
Lying, she knew, was a sin.

My tragic tale, I won't prolong,
Rickety-tickety-tin,
My tragic tale I won't prolong,
And if you do not enjoy the song,
You've yourselves to blame if it's too long,
You should never have let me begin, begin,
You should never have let me begin.