The Last Nigth of the Proms

Suddenly was everything over; the Exams past, the semester is over and my stay in Dublin have come to an end. Even as the two last week have consisted of visits from Norway, rude German student advisors, Ministers taken at gun point and a rather unplanned cold during the mentioned examination period, I haven’t been writing too much here. The cold and the five four exams in four days in a row explains much of that.

However, now I’m free, and now I’m leaving back home to Bergen, which I from time to another have missed. I have not missed the rest of Norway, but Bergen, absolutely. Hence, I can’t really say that I’m home before me and Scaramouch is sitting at my dig sharing a pizza and a couple of bottles of vine talking about the world passing.

I’m really not in mood for a deeper writing now as I’m a bit, quite, very, sad about leaving my new home in Donnybrook, the other guys at UCD, Liffey, the coffee at Starbucks, the GPO, Saint Stephen’s Green, the Bus who never comes, the rain, the food at the Pubs. The breach in the Wall were I have to get through in the mornings to get to the Campus, the pipes overlooking Dublin Bay, Wicklow Mountains in the morning; I could have been writing for hours about everything. As usual I will not do that, and would rather again dedicate a song to the situation without any sentimental speeches and symbolic manifestos over the time that have past and would come in the future. SO, to all of you from UCD, I’m off now, and..yeah..take care. I’ll be back.

My Heart Is In Ireland
By The Wolfe Tones

In the East End of London, I met an old man.
He kept a bar called the Horses and Tram.
My parents were Irish. They loved that dear land
The Cockney, he smiled, then he shook my old hand.

My heart is in Ireland, it's there I long to be.
Her hills and her valleys are calling to me.
Though born here in this land, my heart is in Ireland.
The land of the old folks is calling to me.

Near a coal mine in Wales, by a roadside cafe,
A young girl came smiling, and to me did say,
Well, my folks are from Ireland. My Da', he hopes one day
When he leaves the mines, sure we'll go back to stay.

My heart is in Ireland, it's there I long to be.
Her hills and her valleys are calling to me.
Though born here in this land, my heart is in Ireland.
The land of the old folks is calling to me.

Then I went through the Midlands, through each city and town.
I found there were Irish in each place I roamed.
And I drank and I sang at a pub they call the Crown.
With the Birmingham irish, we sang songs of home.

My heart is in Ireland, it's there I long to be.
Her hills and her valleys are calling to me.
Though born here in this land, my heart is in Ireland.
The land of the old folks is calling to me.

Then I went north to Scotland, to Glasgow on the Clyde.
I met with some young lads. They said, Celtic's our side.
All our folks are from Ireland, the island of the green.
A country we love, but a place we've not seen.

My heart is in Ireland, it's there I long to be.
Her hills and her valleys are calling to me.
Though born here in this land, my heart is in Ireland.
The land of the old folks is calling to me.