The Irish fear nothing and no one
They keep fighting til everyone's dead
I'm not sure where this metaphor's goin'
I just felt like it had to be said

There's a guy at that party who loves you
Something most of us only dream of
You go out there and you get some Ireland
The country of whiskey and love

Oh, you are so borrowin' my secret weapon costume I got in storage, Elle. I'll just dust off the mothballs, and wait'll you see it...now go and do this, honey. 'Cause if a girl like you can't win back your man, there's no hope for the rest of us.