The Turfman from Ardee
For the sake of health I took a walk, one day in early dawn,
I met a jolly Turfman as he slowly jogged along,
The kindest salutations passed 'twixt him and me
When at last I got acquainted with the Turfman from Ardee.
We chatted very friendly as we jogged along the road,
He says my ass is tired and I want to sell my load,
For I've had no refreshment since I've left home,you see,
And I'm wearied out with traveling, say the Turfman from Ardee.
Your cart is wracked and old, my friend,your ass is very old,
It must be twenty summers since that animal was foaled,
He was yoked into a trap in September '43
And he cantered for the midwife says the Turfman from Ardee.
I own my cart must have been made from the very best of wood,
I do believe it was in use in the time of Noah's flood,
The axle never wanted grease but one year out of three,
For it's the old Carrick axle says the Turfman from Ardee.
I often do abuse my ass with this little hazelrod,
For indeed I cannot mind the day that poor old John was shod,
The harness that is on his back was made by John McGee,
And he's dead this four and forty years says the Turfman from Ardee.
We talked about our country's woes and how we are oppressed,
Of the men we send to Parliament to get our wrongs redressed,
The men we send to Parliament are nothing more, I see,
Than a blooming pack of humbugs says the Turfman from Ardee.
Just then I heard a female voice that I knew very well
Politely asking this old man his load of turf to sell,
I shook that steely hand of his and bowed respectfully
I hope to meet in future days with the Turfman from Ardee.