No Country for Young Men

Ireland's fast becoming a retirement home
In time all the young
That call Ireland home
Will have moved onto greener pastures

Putting their hard earned qualifications
To good use
Where employers appreciate the combination
Of knowledge and experience

Ireland's fast becoming a retirement home
The policy used to be
That once you turned eighteen
You were free to spread your wings
Like a golden eagle
Born to fly

Now forced to the fly coop
At an earlier phase in the life
Of a golden eagle
The embryonic stage

Ireland's fast becoming a retirement home
Where the world's OAPs
Will alone call home
In give or take the next twenty years

There'll be no government to speak of
No real change
In that department I know
For those living
With the silent party today

Ireland's fast becoming a retirement home