Rock On Rockall

Oh the Empire it is finished No foreign lands to seize So the greedy eye of England Is stirring towards the seas Two hundred miles from Donegal There's a place that's called Rockall And the groping hands of Whitehall Are grabbing at it's walls Oh rock on Rockall you'll never fall For Britains greedy hands Oh you'll meet the same resistance Like you did in many lands May the Seagulls rise and pluck your eyes And the water crush your shell And the natural gas will burn your ass And blow you all to hell This rock is part of Ireland For it's written in folklore When Finn McCool took a sod of grass He threw it to the fore When he tossed a pebble across the sea Where ever did it fall For the sod became the Isle of Man Now the pebble's called Rockall Oh the seas will not be silent While Britannia grabs the waves And remember that the Irish Will no longer be your slaves And remember that Britannia well She rules the waves no more So keep your hands off Rockall It's Irish to the core