The Ballad of Ronnie Drew's Mare Songtext

von Phil Coulter

The Ballad of Ronnie Drew's Mare

You can sing of all your sporting heroes
Like Master McGrath and the rest
But there's a horse in the County of Wicklow
That's beaten all of the best
The slowest hunter, the lowest jumper
But great for a stroll round the park

Chorus:
The serving lasses, the upper classes, and daughters of millionaires
They all would appear from far and near
For a ride on Ronnie's mare, For a ride on Ronnie Drew's mare

In Greystones town on a Sunday morning
A crowd will always appear
To catch a glimpse of the famous mare
They call the horse of the year
She's the best at racing but sees no disgrace
In pulling a big old milk cart

Chorus,

In the Burnaby Bar the boys talked of the horse show
Ans said she ought to be showed
She was tutored and trained by the two Evans boys
On the grass by the side of the road
Though she won up in Dublin, without any troublin'
Next day she was back in the cart

Chorus,

Joe Sweeney the punter suggested one day
They should enter her in for a race
So all was arranged, Billy Fox would be jockey
And Newcastle would be the place
But the boys all agreed it even if she succeeded
She'd go back to delivering milk

Chorus,

Well the boys were there to lay out the readies
And cheer the horse past the post
But when Fox had a look at the competition
He turned as white as a ghost
We'll have some hassle to beat Willie Castle
Says Ronnie, 'For J's sake'

Chorus,

The race it was tough but the mare she was flying
They knew that she couldn't lose
But in the midst of the celebration
There arrived some tragic news
In her finest hour all the milk had gone sour
So now she was out of a job

Chorus.