All I want for Christmas is an Irish passport
Six of eight great-grandparents were born on Irish soil
They left to find a better life in Greenbank ghetto's backstreets
In dark satanic factories they gave their sweat and toil
I don't wanna wind up in a provincial backwater
Cut off from the culture that's my natural birthright
My Dad, he was a betting man my Ma was a granddaughter
Of Cunniffe, Keaveny, Cavanagh,
Now don't that qualify?
I got all the Undertones' records on rotation
I learnt the words to rebel songs at my mother's knee
All I want for Christmas is an Irish passport
Begged or borrowed, stolen, bought
That'll do for me
The Irish passport Santa should be giving them out for free
Cos now an Irish passport, that's an English luxury
