Laissez Faire Songtext
von Declan O’Rourke

How can I feed you, my beautiful son?
Not a sin on your soul and your race is but run
How can I feed you, my beautiful son
With your wheezin′ and coughin', all blasted night long?

There′s not a chair to rest me arse on from the mornin' 'til night
If it isn′t nailed down, then we′ll set it alight
Been tryin' to keep the warmth inside you, you′re a pitiful sight
You've your aul′ fellow away with the fright, ha!

And now they're burnin′ out the craturs all over this land
If you haven't got your rent, we'll get your knapsack, and
Get yourself off in a hurry, ′cause the tumblin′ band
Will be tearin' down your hovel for the Gombeen man


How can I feed you, my beautiful son?
All the goodness I have in my body is gone
How can I feed you, my beautiful son?
To the blazes, I can′t keep you nourished and strong

Now the Quakers are the only shaggin' generous group
Sure there′s no level that other shower of hoors won't stoop
Swap your Catholic halo for a Protestant hoop
And give up your place in Heaven for a bowl of soup

And everything that′s worth 'atin' in the country
Is shifted off to England by the Queen′s Navy
Your man Trevelyan says it′s "laissez-faire"
If they were his children, he'd fuckin′ well care, ah!

How can I feed you, my beautiful son?
Ah, I'd give you the stars and the moon and the sun
Can the Lord in His infinite mercy be wrong?
Must we sacrifice one so the others stay strong?