Fond And Happy Memories

In the middle of February they always came to Annagloor And parked their horse drawn vans by the by road the travelling Irish poor They came for the March horse fair in Millstreet Town horses they bought and sold And a beautiful Pinto to them was a horse worth more than gold. The coldest part of the Winter is in mid February And a cold wind blew across the sky in temperatures low as minus 3 Their horses they did not tether on the by road they ranged free And though that was close to fity years ago those memories remain with me. And though many Seasons have come and gone since then the memories remain evergreen Around their camp fire they drunk their illicit booze the stuff known as poteen And the accordionist played the old tunes and with him they sang along And they were bound through their cultural links to music dance and song. Their ancestors were the dispossessed that Cromwells's army had put on the road That led them to the wandering life of the 'no fixed abode' Their mothers gave them life in their horse drawn vans and in their horse drawn vans they died And from birth till death they roamed around the Irish countryside Outcasts in their own country and homeless and downtrod But through their music dance and song linked to a greater God And though they too had their human frailties so too don't we one and all And fond and happy memories of them I can recall. Their children and grand children don't live in a horse drawn van For the late fifties brought great changes to the lives of the wandering clan Yet by the by road at Annagloor around their camp fire in the moonlight I still can hear them singing on a cold and frosty night.