Brazen Head Blues

Posted on Jun 30, 2013


Brazen Head, Dublin

Picture courtesy of

Ahh, he sighs as he sits in the Brazen Head
Dublin’s oldest pub where James Joyce drank it’s said
Not a far walk from St James’ Gate
Where he’s destined for in fate

He sits and drinks the black liquid happily
Listening to the band play Irish Rover merrily
For the tourists and the happy drunks they play
He has sat drinking Guinness, the heavenly black gold all day

A fire burns in cold winters shadow
The people they sit by it, their cheeks do glow
Warm food they eat, big belly’s full, washed down with drinks
This place, the pub of kings, a place to meet and think

He should have left over an hour ago, homeward bound
But he’s happy sitting at the bar listening to the sounds
He loves the beat of the bodhrán ancient and otherworldly
There’s not a bad bone or heart in this pub, treat all kindly

He orders another pint, his shopping on the floor
Three hours since he walked through the door
Just one more he says to himself, ordering another pint
But the barman has beat him to it, in front of him, how kind!

Suddenly outside, the darkness draws in
But he doesn’t care as he talks away with strangers again
New friends maybe made depending on how he goes
He looks in his wallet to see how much he’s so far blown

”Ah, to hell with it,” he tells his new found friend
”What’s the hurry, what’s your poison,” as he orders again
Closing time comes as he staggers out happy and swaying
In the mood now to carry on but home he heads with his shopping

If you would like to know more about the Brazen Head please go to the following Links (copy & paste):
Twitter: @TheBrazenHead