Tom Scanlon (The Punter)

As my mind rolls back o’er memory’s track
To the days when we were young
Not a care had we only wild and free
And many a song was sung.
We’d fish along the river bank
As the sun was blazing down
And gather round the old big stone
That stood there large and brown.
And when the day was done
And we set out for home
Along the mossy ridge
We’d rest a while and spend an hour
Beneath the Russians bridge;
The McGraths, Moriartys, the Walshs from the hill
Would come down there in the warm air
To laugh and sport their fill.
Then to Molly Donovan’s we would retire
To pass away the night
With the old gramophone and a game of cards
And many a dacent fight.
They are scattered now throughout the land
And some are in their graves,
Others have gone far and wide
Across the Atlantic waves.
But where e’er they are gone.
Or what e’er they’ve done
They will always remember back
To their boyhood days
And their happy ways
Around the Mail Road Cross.