Okay, I want to talk about Ireland

Specifically, I want to talk about the famine

About the fact that there never really was one

There was no famine

See, Irish people were only allowed to eat potatoes

All the other food, meat, fish, vegetables

Were shipped out of the country under armed guard

To England while Irish people starved

And then in the middle of all this

They gave us money not to teach our children Irish

And so we lost our history

And this is what I think is still hurting me

See, we're like a child that's been battered

Has to drive itself out of its head because it's frightened

Still feels all the painful feelings

But they lose contact with the memory

And this leads to massive self-destruction

Alcoholism, drug addiction

All desperate attempts at running

And in its worst form becomes actual killing

And if there is ever gonna be healing

There has to be remembering then grieving

So that there can be forgiving

There has to be knowledge and understanding

There was no famine, was no famine

There was no famine

American army regulation

Says you mustn't kill more than ten percent of a nation

'Cause to do so causes permanent psychological damage

It's not permanent, but they didn't know that

Anyway, during the supposed famine

We lost a lot more than ten percent of our nation

Through deaths on land or ships of emigration

But what finally broke us was not starvation

But its use in the controlling of our education

Schools go on about black ‘47

On and on about the terrible famine

But what they don't say is in the truth

There never really was one

Was no famine

There was no famine

There never really was one

England doesn't take responsibility

For destruction that it's caused

For its empire and now commonwealth

They left us uninformed

And we are lost, like the reality of our history

Like decades of land we invade

Not just killing, crushing culture

Taking away identity and heritage

Tradition and music, therefore love

Confidence and understanding about who you are

And where you're from and what you're made of

It's essential that we educate

There's blood on hands and guilt at stake, England needs a hug

It's backed itself into a corner like a scared dog

If we can learn the truth with compassion and understanding

We can move forward

And then we can learn not to pass on our trauma

And if there is ever gonna be healing

There has to be remembering then grieving

So that there can be forgiving

There has to be knowledge and understanding

And if there is ever gonna be healing

There has to be remembering then grieving

So that there can be forgiving

There has to be knowledge and understanding

There was no famine

The Big Hunger

It's not called the great famine anymore

There was nothing great about it, it's called an Gorta Mór

Which was in English translated as The Big Hunger