My name’s not Jams O’Donnell and I’m not from Dublin town
But a bona fide genius though they sought to do me down
In lounge bars and public the jealous did me slight
Merely idle scribblers yet lauded with high renown
They cry you don’t deserve us but we stage behind your back
And many’s a hack stole my page when I was rather tight
But when life looks black as the hour of night and my atoms are pale and wan
I rage to hell with the civil service fill up the Cruiskeen Lawn
To hell with the civil...