Some say it's the Guinness that clouds up my mind, or the stories me grandad left behind. But I'm thinkin' it's somethin', deep down in the brain, all of that iron, that drives me insane. They say we Irish, have a touch of the rust, Hemochromatosis, a Celtic curse.
Too much iron buildin', in the ol' Irish head, that's why I'm drawn, to the coloureds instead.

Some say it's the Guinness, that clouds up me mind, or the stories me grandad, left far behind. But I'm thinkin' it's somethin', deep down in the brain, a
a touch of the iron, that drives me insane. They say we Irish, got a touch of the rust, Hemochromatosis, a curse. Too much iron buildin', in the ol' Irish head, that's why I'm drawn, to the coloured instead.