You can sing of all your sport'n hero's Like Mr. (McGranderas) But there's a horse in the county of Wicklow That's beaten all of the best The slowest humper, the lowest jumper The great for a straw 'round the park
The servant lasses, the upper classes And daughters of millionaires They all appear from far and near For a ride on Ronnie's mare For a ride on Ronnie Drew's mare
In (Graystone's) 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 racin', but sees no disgracin' In pulling a big old wee cart
In the (Bardeby) bar boys talked of the horse show One said she ought to be showed She was (chiltered) and trained by the two Heaven's boys And the grass by the side of the road Though she won 'm in Dublin without any troublin' Next day she was back in the cart
Joe Sweeny the puncher suggested one day They should enter her in for a race So all was arranged, Billy Fox would be jockey And New Castle would be the place But the boys all agreed it, even if she succeeded She'd go back to deliverin' milk
Well, the boys where there to lay out the ready's And cheer the horse past the post But when Fox had a look at the competition He tottened as white as a ghost We'll have some hassle to beat Willy Castle Says Ronnie '(fuck you sake)'
The race it was tough, but the mare she was flyin' They knew that she couldn't loose But in the midst of the celebrations Arrived some tragic news In her finest hour all the milk had gone sour So now she was out of a job