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Listowel Memories

Lovely Listowel
written by Brian McMahon


Oh, Puck may be famous and Galway be grand,

And the praise of Tramore echo down through the land,

But I'll sing you a ballad and beauty extol,

As I found it long'go in the Town of Listowel.



I've been to Bundoran, I've rambled to Bray

I've footed it to Bantry with beautiful Bay,

But I'd barter their charms, I would 'pon me soul,

For the week of the Races in lovely Listowel.



There were Bookies and Bagmen and Bankers and all,

Biddy Mulligan was there with a green-coloured shawl,

And a cute little boy pitching pence in a bowl,

Took me down for a crown in the Town of Listowel.



Beyond on the course there was silk flashing past, 

The unfortunate horse that I backed he came last,

When he ran the wrong way sure I lost my control,

And I prayed for his trainer and Lovely Listowel.



On, night time, how are you - the night sure 'twas day,

And the stars in the sky they looked down in dismay,

And they sez to the moon then in accents so droll,

"You're done, for the sun shines tonight on Listowel."



They came from Castleisland, they came from Tralee,

And a good lookin' gentleman came from Figi, 

We'd a Dutchman, a German, a Swede and a Pole,

Sure 'twas more like Geneva than Lovely Listowel.



My rhyming is over, God bless those who heard,

So I'll take to the road like a migratin' bird,

But before I depart, well you all must pay toll,

So three cheers for the Races and Lovely Listowel.



Sweet Listowel
A song by John B. Keane as promised to Eric


Oh sweet Listowel I've loved you all my days

Your towering spires and shining streets and squares

Where sings the Feale it's everlasting lays

And whispers to you in it's evening prayers


Chorus


Of all fair towns few have so sweet a soul

Or gentle folk compassionate and true

Where'er I go I'll love you sweet Listowel

And doff my distant cap each day to you

Down by the Feale the willows dip their wands

From magic bowers where soft the night wind sighs

How oft I've roved along your moonlit lands

Where late love blooms and first love never dies


Chorus


Of all fair towns few have so sweet a soul

Or gentle folk compassionate and true

Where'er I go I'll love you sweet Listowel

And doff my distant cap each day to you.

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