In the town of Drumshanbo
In the town of Drumshanbo that week in July
Seems musicians not rain fall out of the sky
If e’er a town got a musical kiss
Of all in Ireland it must surely be this
Tucked down in Leitrim the invasion begins
The first Saturday sees the starting of things
Like an instrument sea the melodies roll
In with musicians as young as they’re old
The wonderful taverns with all manner of room
Stocked up and ready to explode with a boom
Of fiddlers’ jigs and accordion reels
Pipers and banjos and the stampin’ of heels
The pub with no name is the first one you’ll see
And nearby the Haven where tunes are set free
Then if you’re able Berry’s does wait
With three sessions at least from early ‘til late
The pints tumble down many’s the throat
But Monica’s calls and some gather coats
Gotta be quick and get a good seat
But ready yourself for an onslaught of heat
Half a stone lost but with Guinness for strength
Conway’s is where next we’ll show our intent
To see in the dawn and defy any rest
A Jamieson chaser’ll put hairs on your chest
Into the a.m. and still we’re not done
The Mill Race demands we call in for one
And if you’re peckish rest at your ease
Through thon wee door is a sizzling Chinese
The noodles have boosted the fingers and thumbs
Though to be quite honest everything’s numb
But on with the digger there’s still one more place
We’d better check out, you know... just in case!
A republican tinge the green, white and gold
Adorns the four walls in this last pint fold
But each to their own there’s a space at the wall
Squeeze in there quick the music does call
The instruments at last are down for the night
Now where are we staying? Go left...or go right?
And the happiest thought as to slumber we go
We’ll repeat the dose all day tomorrow!
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