Before everybody decided to fight,
Over who was Irish or Brit
Our old Lisburn was a wonderful sight,
Though there were a few rows, I’ll admit
Cyril McCurry once started a scare,
As he called to a man from Glenavy
“There’s a fight goin’ on in Genesi’s up there.
It’s two chips fightin’ over the gravy”
John Martin once said, when we’d had a wee sup
As we stood talking outside of Hamill’s
That Duck Hagan was told when he tried to join up
“Come back when we’re looking for camels.”
A young lad called Spence, with no common sense
With hoop and cleak often would roam
When he lost his hoop near a sharp barbed wire fence
He cried, “How am I getting’ home?”
I went once to Blakely’s to get a haircut
As I left, some wit shouted, “Hey you!
Who on Earth has done that to your nut?
And tell us man; what did he pay you?”
It may be age that clouds my mind
But I wish I could start anew
As I go to bed, and hope to find
The old Lisburn I once knew.