His was a classic rags-to-riches story, almost too good to be true: the 4th of 11 children, raised in a row house in Athlone, Ireland, who by his mid-30s became an international singing star adored by millions.

Don't you hate it when you're sitting across the room from someone who refuses to answer their cell phone? Inevitably, you do a slow burn while they nonchalantly let it ring. And ring. And ring.

That's the jumping off point in Sarah Ruhl's comedy, "Dead Man's Cell Phone," playing at Lyric Stage Company of Boston through November 14. The production is directed by the award-winning Carmel O'Reilly.

Transcribing an interview with Girsa – the all-female, high school/college-age Irish-American band from Rockland County, NY, that is catching ears and turning heads in ever-increasing numbers – is a prospect only slightly easier than, say, reforming the American health care system.

Members of Girsa enthusiastically, and often not a little mischievously, finish one another's sentences – or quickly weigh in with their assessments of what's been said, or not said, or should be said. And there are more than a few fascinating tangents explored on the way to answering a question.