Work Text:
The most unlucky lad all Ireland o’er,
Poor Darren never solitude can find;
His fam’ly always traipses through his door
And to their troubles he must turn his mind.
A father’s bald head hatching crackpot plans
For bargain hunts or saving energy;
A plague of loutish brothers swigging cans -
From bad advice young Darren’s never free!
A mother fussing over what he’ll eat,
Then throwing all his Lego sets away;
A little sister who demands a treat;
A granny who must have the final say -
Amidst this chaos, Darren keeps his head;
It is a miracle he hasn’t fled!