To Thor, God from before,
your memory has been brought to the fore,
dark grey clouds during the day,
you bring with you a rain display,
legend, lard, myth to the young,
we sink and swim in your pool of dung,
rivers overflow, lakes teether full,
makavelian god, during a millennium pull,
impress the ladies with a powerful display,
strike mighty forecasts to Martin King's dismay,
from Lough Ree to Loscrea,
we linger sippin tae,
no longer bleedin Jesus, but bleedin Thor,
would ya ever go and shove it,
where I told ya before.
