For tradition’s sake and for tradition alone,
I wear green today.
I can play along with tradition’s silly rules.
In truth, it’s fun to be a fanatic, go all out,
And fancy everyone else apathetic
As I apply my green eyeliner with a smirk.
(I even wear green underwear,
though no one will see it.
Now THAT’S dedication.)
I never wanted to be one of those people
who wore blue or brown or yellow,
it just doesn’t make sense—
why would you NOT wear green today?
But I don’t even know what St. Patrick’s Day is.
I start to wonder
Why do people wear green?
Why NOT blue or brown or yellow?
What are we even celebrating?
The year I was grieving too much to get dressed that day,
Someone asked me where my green was.
I felt oddly ashamed for breaking tradition.
It was the one time that I just didn’t care,
And someone called me out on it.
I know my friends have a right to keep me accountable,
I’m not even Irish.
I don’t know why we’re wearing green
Or why we’re drinking beer,
But I can go along with it.
I like playing the fanatic,
even though it’s meaningless--
I mean there’s really no other way to describe it, is there?
It's just silly, empty, meaningless tradition
if I can’t even tell you who St. Patrick is.
The only thing I know is that I’m supposed to wear green,
And lucky for me, I look damn good in my green dress.