Great song. Think it’s Divine Comedy’s best album.
So winter closed its fist
And got it stuck in the pump.
The plunger froze up a lump
In its throat, ice founding itself
Upon iron. The handle
Paralysed at an angle.
Then the twisting of wheat straw
into ropes, lapping them tight
Round stem and snout, then a light
That sent the pump up in a flame
It cooled, we lifted her latch,
Her entrance was wet, and she came.
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Vol McClean was ready to answer TOD’s question, Gen MON ordered time up.
TOD is damaged goods for RTE with the possibility of the Team qualifying.
MON detests him and he is Browne bread there. Players will follow suit & he’s pretty much left with banal answers to all his questions. 
Hate to see anyone lose their job but TOD’s legacy as a sports journo took a serious boot in the bollocks tonight.
Tony O Donoghue is an almighty prick. How he’s gotten a such a cushy number in RTÉ should be the subject of some degree of investigation.
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