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Well did you ever make colcannon,Made with lovely pickled creamWith the greens&scallions mingledLike a pitcher in a dreamDid you ever make a hole on topTo hold the meltin' flakeOr the creamy flavoured butterThat our mother's used to makeOh you did, so you didSo did he and so did iAnd the more I think about itSure the nearer I'm to cryOh weren't them the happy daysWhen troubles we knew notAnd or mother made colcannonIn the little skillet pot