The Ballad Of Ronnie Drew's Mare Songtext

The Ballad of Ronnie Drew's MareYou can sing of all your sporting heroesLike Master McGrath and the restBut there's a horse in the County of WicklowThat's beaten all of the bestThe slowest hunter, the lowest jumperBut great for a stroll round the parkChorus:The serving lasses, the upper classes, and daughters of millionairesThey all would appear from far and nearFor a ride on Ronnie's mare, For a ride on Ronnie Drew's mareIn Greystones town on a Sunday morningA crowd will always appearTo catch a glimpse of the famous mareThey call the horse of the yearShe's the best at racing but sees no disgraceIn pulling a big old milk cartChorus,In the Burnaby Bar the boys talked of the horse showAns said she ought to be showedShe was tutored and trained by the two Evans boysOn the grass by the side of the roadThough she won up in Dublin, without any troublin'Next day she was back in the cartChorus,Joe Sweeney the punter suggested one dayThey should enter her in for a raceSo all was arranged, Billy Fox would be jockeyAnd Newcastle would be the placeBut the boys all agreed it even if she succeededShe'd go back to delivering milkChorus,Well the boys were there to lay out the readiesAnd cheer the horse past the postBut when Fox had a look at the competitionHe turned as white as a ghostWe'll have some hassle to beat Willie CastleSays Ronnie, 'For J's sake'Chorus,The race it was tough but the mare she was flyingThey knew that she couldn't loseBut in the midst of the celebrationThere arrived some tragic newsIn her finest hour all the milk had gone sourSo now she was out of a jobChorus.