"Ironic" normally means to speak in such a way that the intended meaning is the opposite of the words used, e.g. speaking of Adolf Hitler's murderous rages "He's a good man, isn't he?"
Below is an email "We'll all be Rooned" — sent Jan 23, 2020
"isn't it Ironic, don't you think", every school kid has probably learnt this song, and can sing it tunelessly actually I think that Canadian songstress Alanis Morissette is coming to Byron Bay Blues Fest on April 10th 2020, anyway, for those who can enjoy this video of a girl singing rhetorically to her "alter ego" in the back seat / front seat of a car on the subject of situational irony with pretty cool lyrics, initially negative, then eventually, curious, here's the video, I've popped it here with the lyrics, on my web site, just a few days ago, after a chat to an older man who had never heard of it.
"We'll all be rooned" said Hanrahan, I've copied all the words below, Wikipedia's put up a full article on this poem, every school kid in Queensland used to learn it in about Grade 5, in the old Queensland Readers, probably in all of the Australian states, I wouldn't be surprised, my mum used to say she really liked it when I recited it. But apparently, very few school kids know about it today. Ironic.
SAID HANRAHAN"We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, In accents most forlorn, Outside the church, ere Mass began, One frosty Sunday morn. The congregation stood about, Coat-collars to the ears, And talked of stock, and crops, and drought, As it had done for years. "It's lookin' crook," said Daniel Croke; "Bedad, it's cruke, me lad, For never since the banks went broke Has seasons been so bad." "It's dry, all right," said young O'Neil, With which astute remark He squatted down upon his heel And chewed a piece of bark. And so around the chorus ran "It's keepin' dry, no doubt." "We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "Before the year is out. "The crops are done; ye'll have your work To save one bag of grain; From here way out to Back-o'-Bourke They're singin' out for rain. "They're singin' out for rain," he said, "And all the tanks are dry." The congregation scratched its head, And gazed around the sky. "There won't be grass, in any case, Enough to feed an ass; There's not a blade on Casey's place As I came down to Mass." "If rain don't come this month," said Dan, And cleared his throat to speak-- "We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "If rain don't come this week." A heavy silence seemed to steal On all at this remark; And each man squatted on his heel, And chewed a piece of bark. "We want a inch of rain, we do," O'Neil observed at last; But Croke "maintained" we wanted two To put the danger past. "If we don't get three inches, man, Or four to break this drought, We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "Before the year is out." In God's good time down came the rain; And all the afternoon On iron roof and window-pane It drummed a homely tune. And through the night it pattered still, And lightsome, gladsome elves On dripping spout and window-sill Kept talking to themselves. It pelted, pelted all day long, A-singing at its work, Till every heart took up the song Way out to Back-o'Bourke. And every creek a banker ran, And dams filled overtop; "We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "If this rain doesn't stop." And stop it did, in God's good time; And spring came in to fold A mantle o'er the hills sublime Of green and pink and gold. And days went by on dancing feet, With harvest-hopes immense, And laughing eyes beheld the wheat Nid-nodding o'er the fence. And, oh, the smiles on every face, As happy lad and lass Through grass knee-deep on Casey's place Went riding down to Mass. While round the church in clothes genteel Discoursed the men of mark, And each man squatted on his heel, And chewed his piece of bark. "There'll be bush-fires for sure, me man, There will, without a doubt; We'll all be rooned," said Hanrahan, "Before the year is out." John O'Brien