|
One fine day in Kilkenny, in September of the year |
|
Our hurling boys were coming home from Cork and we did cheer |
|
The people filled the streets that night all wearing black and gold |
|
They looked like giant bumblebees, all swarming down the road |
|
Up Kilkenny, up the cats |
|
Hooray, the boys are coming back |
|
So raise a flag up to the sky |
|
Wave that gold and black |
|
They town square was a buzzin' as the train pulled into town |
|
You could move an inch cuz there were people all around |
|
Our three time hurling champions were the fair town's pride and joy |
|
Desired by the girls and emulated by the boys |
|
Don't you try to find a pint at any local pub |
|
They're running out of whisky and they're running out of grub |
|
But the craic is flowing freely and the spirits running high |
|
And if I see an empty barstool then I'll meet you by and by |
|
At 8:00 next morning, the streets are thinning out |
|
The celebration's over, but nobody has a doubt |
|
Though the town will become quiet and the crowds will disappear |
|
We'll be waiting for that train again, about this time next year |