Coleraine Regatta lyrics

And now, kind folks, I'll tell you true and now me song commences,

In the year of seventy-two, the first of my adventures.

The Derry Standard came to us and it bore a special motto

Saying that on July the twenty-first comes off Coleraine Regatta.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

The morning it being fine and I prepared for starting,

I was led along the line by a man whose name was Martin.

Going up into the Junction there I heard two engines whistle

And the points were drew together by a man named Frank McCrystle.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

The ladies shook their dress and they sat there with compunction,

When I heard the guard express, "Take seats at Newtown Junction."

Many a rosy cheek was there and many’s an ugly bundle,

Aye, and many a lass received a smack as the train passed through the tunnel.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

Oh, near Coleraine we drew where there my journey ended,

Sweet Portrush to view each lad and lass intended.

But I stood on the platform and amid the whole narration,

And soon the din began to cease as the Port train left the station.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

Oh, crowd by crowd did strive for to pass one another,

Husbands lost their wives and daughters lost their mothers.

And lads they lost their lasses there, when passing by they missed ‘em

When I heard a fellow calling out, "Great God, I've lost my sister!”

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

I thought my time was long, I thought every hour seven

Till the band began to play and the clock she struck eleven.

One of the band boyspassed me by and I heard his name called Lowery,

When the fife and drum struck up the tune we call "Kate from Newry.”

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

Oh, some were selling matches there and others good bootlaces,

And some were calling "Who will buy the true list of the races?"

There were lumps of groups of boys and such as we call ladies,

But Harbison made me rejoice when he hooked me up to Fadys.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

They led me to the train, although my coat was dumpy,

There was whisky in my brain and my senses they were muddy.

And when we came to Castlerock the rum began to caper,

And there I was mocked, and being mocked for a ??* of a waiter.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

Oh, a short time there I stayed, my conduct wasn’t civil,

For the stationmaster prayed and he wished me to the devil

He sat me on a seat where I sat with compunction.

And from the carriage I was hauled like a wet sack at the junction.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

There on the boards I lay, as I supposed, contented,

Some people with me stayed and for my case lamented.

But I got lying there till I had me slumber finished,

And safely homewards I was taken by the sons of Tom McSkimmins.

Whack for all the da, right for all the daddy

Whack for all the da right tooren anten addy.

Now I have sung my song that I have sung to please ye,

The more I kept you long, I didn't mean to tease ye.

But lads and lassies be aware and keep it as your motto,

Neither drink too much o' rum and beer when you go to Coleraine Regatta

• Artist:The Johnstons
• Album:The Barleycorn