Lyrics by Brendan Sheehy

There's another flippin' youngfella [bad word] from his land 
with money in his pocket, there's a ticket in his hand 
Well maybe he's off to America or England or Oz 
but I tell ya he'll be better off without the bloody sods

Ah, take me away to the promised land 
where the beer is so much better and the women understand 
Oh, take me away to the promised land 
and "Feck the Celtic Tiger", said yer man 

Well they're talking of recession and the property is down 
Sell your Fiat Puntos boys, and head on into town 
The tiger's had it's glory and they're laying off in droves 
but I tell ya we'll be better off without the bloody rogues

Ah, take me away to the promised land 
where the beer is so much better and the women understand 
Oh, take me away to the promised land 
and "Feck the Celtic Tiger", said yer man