Munchies in Dublin

08/03/2024: Great pint friendly staff. Very comfortable.

12/12/2023: (Verse 1) In the heart of Crumlin, where stories unfold, A tale of a submarine bar, once mighty and bold. TheJournal.ie broke the news, a story untold, Grant Thornton in silence, as the truth took hold. (Chorus) Oh, the Submarine Bar, where laughter used to ring, Now closed and shuttered, a sad, silent thing. Rory O'Connor’s adjoining, in the shadows it'll cling, A symphony of silence, the Submarine Bar's last fling. (Verse 2) In South Dublin's embrace, where memories reside, Yesterday it happened, the Submarine's final tide. Adrift in receivership, on the financial slide, 45 jobs lost, like dreams in the ebbing tide. (Chorus) Oh, the Submarine Bar, where stories found their place, Now locked and empty, an abandoned space. Grant Thornton's mystery, veiled in no grace, A pub's demise, a community's embrace. (Bridge) Crowds once roared, in Euro 2012's cheer, But now the phone's silent, no laughter to hear. Councillors speak, of struggles sincere, The Submarine Bar, a relic, drawing near. (Verse 3) Built for World Cup glory, in days of yore, Now echoes the absence, of cheers and more. A labor of love, for thirty years or more, Staff left in the dark, as the closing door. (Chorus) Oh, the Submarine Bar, where friendships were formed, Now echoes of joy, in emptiness mourned. Ashleaf Shopping Centre, where life carries on, But the Submarine's silence, a fading song. (Outro) In the south Dublin dusk, a chapter concludes, The Submarine Bar's fate, in shadows it eludes. Grant Thornton's silence, the truth it excludes, A yellow submarine, in financial interludes.