In Dublin, when I wash my hands, I always burn my right one and my left one is always cold.

In Dublin, when I go to sleep, I’ve always my foot outside the blanket.

In Dublin, the Sun doesn’t last. The sky is always cloudy.

In Dublin, I’m always sweaty in the night and I’m always cold in the morning as soon as I get up.

In Dublin, the food sucks.

In Dublin, it’s always cold; even in the summer.

In Dublin, I always walk through a brawl, praying not to be punched.

In Dublin, there’s always a beautiful girl that smells garlic.

In Dublin, I always put a foot in a puddle.

In Dublin, you can walk till you get tired.

In Dublin, it’s always raining.

But Dublin is still Dublin. And it makes me feel home.

Always.