The Ballad Of Ronnie’s Mare

You can sing of all your sport’n hero’s
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

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 racin’, but sees no disgrace
In pulling a big old milk cart

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 the Burnaby bar boys talked of the horse show
One 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

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

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

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

Well, the boys where 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 Willy Castle
Says Ronnie “For J’s sake”

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

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

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