T’WAS the night before Christmas and not an exhausted member of Council staff was stirring.
Well, except for Limerick’s new mayor, who works round the clock just for kicks.
The lights were twinkling, even if there was no fuss made and the punters weren’t happy there was no turning on parade.
But Christmas was coming and St Nicholas too, there would soon be creamy scones and sarnies aplenty in old Merchants Quay.
It was a year of elections and dreams coming true.
The old guard were in charge again, shur what could you do?
O’Hanlon, Slatttery, Talukder, and Pond, all snug as can be,
Their pals in the blue-shirts tucked up too like a dream.
Butler, McSweeney, and Kiely, back in again.
Like mice in the belfry, there was no getting rid.
Though friends from old had vanished, we lost quite a few –
The Green Party were down seats, the Shinners hanging like shrews.
Squeaky bum time it might be, but Social Democrats had reason to grin,
More popular than ever, they were growing in good stead.
Independents were the cool kids with Daly banging on doors.
But change came a knocking when John Moran was ‘big cojones’ pronounced.
Hardworking and canny, he impressed quite a few,
But life wasn’t made easy by the main parties, who are so hard to please.
Still our new Mayor’s his own boss, that’s why he was our only man.
If this new gig’s to work, he’ll pay no blind bit of notice to the whining – it’s what they do best.
Just don’t mention The Crescent and it all will go real well.
And say nothing about beaches, isn’t life just a breeze.
Look, stockings were now hung and the chimneys swept clean.
There would soon be cars driving on bus lanes, if we’d behaved ourselves this year.
A ruck at the rugby museum tried to dampen our good cheer. But won’t it make a wonderful feature as a vape superstore next year.
Austin, Texas, we were twinned with in a spry rodeo.
If you’re looking for a ride though, don’t ask young Teskey, he’s a D’Unbelievables fan –
Blindboy Boatclub he’s not familiar with, and you can’t be doing that!
More Gardaí, more houses, aren’t we so hard to please. Always looking for something, I mean, there’s no sleigh that big.
Poor old Santa would be exhausted, trying to deliver their crackpot notions and schemes.
Would we not settle for the leftovers, like the poor relations we are?
We’re only a town with notions, could we not cop ourselves on?
On, Noonan! On, JP! On, all Moran’s pals!
It’s time we dream big, before the carols are sung.
You can keep your Scalextric, we want a bright Limerick future with all of the trims.
And Santa if you’re out there, please give us a Christmas light ceremony next year.
