The Shore Road

I often stop to think about the street where I was born
Of the many friends that once I knew
But now most are dead and gone

We often gathered at ‘the stones’
Outside of Paddy Nails
It was there we planned to change the world
But of course you know we failed

A football game we’d hastily start
With Kevin to the fore
Where a hanky ball was soon made up
And kicked until it tore

When the game became exciting
And darkness was getting near
Some idiot would kick the ball to hard
Right into Minnie Weirs’

It now was time to take a break
So back to ‘the stones’ we’d go
But of course you’d never get a seat
For Paddy, Chucky or Joe

It was pigeon racing once again
With Mitchell to the fore
But McNeice and Rodney Creaney
Would watch their own birds soar

To give us all an interest
A bookies was arranged
But Chucky or Croppy Creaney
They were there to take our change

We often watched Old Joofler
Come troding down the street
He was easily recognisable
By the way he threw his feet

Just down the street inside his gate
Stood dear old Granda Jack
His walking stick clutched in his hand
To give someone a crack

And dear old Mary Filben
Her dollies in her hand
Would play with all the children
And keep them out of harm

We would often go around ‘the Tarry’
The orchard for to fog
But with John Joe standing at the gate
Minnie didn’t need a dog

Sure we all remember Annie Green
That dear old lady we often seen
As she wheeled her pram most everyday
The whole way up from Castors Bay

There were stories Peter Doran would tell
About Skinny Welsh and Joco Wells
And of the many races that he won
And in every cup he found a son

The man who took us all in hand
To whom we owe so much
Was without a doubt our founding rock
Yes, the one and only man called Jock

There was Tommy and Micky Henderson
Jack and Willie Hall
Alan and Andy Maxwell
I’m sure you remember them all

When Paddy Nail he passed away
A bloke called Coulter came
But when he flew the Union Flag
He really lit the flame

Paddy Lewsley lived across the street
And he was quickly to his feet
That Loyalist from up the town
Would soon see his wee flag come down

Paddy and friends gathered round
And bricks and stones were quickly found
The ambush started on the house
And Coulter was shifted like a mouse

We didn’t have a supermarket or any other store
For our little bits and pieces
We called at Minnie Morgan’s door

Remember all the nicknames
We gave to one and all
Like Poki, Rat or Yaki
Or even Beany Hall

Hookey Green was often seen in poker games with screw
And boxers Maxi and Dempsey I’m sure you remember them too
Mick McCorry and John Anderson were our milkmen at that time
And Root and Toot McMenamy just help complete this rhyme

Dilinger and Madman Mitchell
Were drivers of big cars
While poor old frail Joe Higgins
Was often seen in bars

Hot Dog worked the markets
Lizzie Swift for Master White
While Smirke often played it smart
To keep big Bert and Philip apart

Tannaghmore was where we were taught
The ‘Backfield’ were we often fought
‘The Tarry’ where our games were played
And now so many friends are laid

I remember as each game was played
This remark from someone was often said
Do you see your big man over there
He’ll be buried in the bottom square

‘The Back Field’ where we used to hold
Our own Olympic Games
The records where we all achieved
At least thats what we all believed

Those days were free from troubles
And we all lived side by side
Yet we all showed little prejudice
Nor did we hurt our neighbours pride

Remember when we used to think
The road belonged to us
When we played our games on the street
Since we seldom saw a car or bus

On the odd occassion when one did pass
Kevin would shout “Let that be the last”
I don’t care if your Tom, Dick or Harry
But when your coming back,
Go round the Tarry

Composed by Jim Brady