Your Heart is Blue and Gold

In the tradition of legends, myths, and folk tales,

History judges the plots, the triumphs, and fails.

Where Tipperary leads, Ireland follows as Davis would say.

The Premier County, where Giants men slay.

Warrior men stand tall upon the Rock.

Treacy and Breen with freedom to unlock.

Its castles and abbeys have burning flames lit.

St. Patrick himself even blessed the Devils Bit.

In the library of time, valiance will call.

Cahills men know the score, nerves will not fall.

Like Bubbles that rise from Lough Derg lake.

A Fox with rousing spirit causes a county to wake.

Our cause and our purpose unbroken by our foes.

The Marching of Sarsfield, keeps fire in our toes.

Wild horses upon Keeper inspired by Doyles name.

Relishing the challenge in the home of GAA fame.

Dreams of our children soar high in the Golden Vale.

Within the Glen of Aherlow, fearless always prevail.

For Dillon, we battle as all Tipp people do.

The Mulcair and the Suir in our blood through and through.

As Ryans fly to the skies, our breath we must catch.

The price of freedom in our hearts will not get a match.

Climbing with purpose, on the Galtees, the sun shines.

Loyal and unrelenting, like way down in the Mines.

As Shane McGowan once told us, our Tipp roots are strong.

The music of our forefathers triggers passion, for where we belong.

Rise and rise again for when all is said and Dunne,

Like the Earls before us, in contest, we have only just begun.

Toast a glass at Jim the Mills, in tribute and in fame.

For all the warriors who play our beautiful game.

Let's lift ourselves with fortitude, have Slievenamon at our backs.

And drive together as champions who will not bow or crack.

They say Tipperary is a long way away.

But we are never too far from Croke Park on any day.

So we stand, unbowing, courageous, and bold.

Because when you're from Tipperary, your heart is blue and gold.

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