The Quest for Rolt's Lost Treasure

Come all you lads and lassies,
From Belturbet to Beleek,
From the Shannon's side to the Barrow's tide,
There's treasure for to seek,
There's Green and Silver to be won,
Across the Mucky Mer,
O'er Grand and Royal, you'll have to toil,
If you want to claim your share.

Some hardships you'll encounter,
No shore power to be had,
Your gin and tonic's full of weed,
And your wine and cheese gone bad,
But persevere as you push those gates,
As you sweat upon the rack,
At the end of the day, there'll be time for play,
And time to have some craic.

And as you slowly navigate,
Watching walker's moving faster,
You'll start to think that you were mad,
To embark on this disaster,
But moving slowly gives you time,
To ponder your surrounds,
The man made ditch, that nature switched,
Into a Holy Ground.

Now Long John Slevin weaves his web,
Upon the world wide thingy,
To lure you all out on this quest,
By boat or barge or dingy,
Then Popeye Kinahan will strike,
Beware of him he's shifty,
"A rally fee, you'll pay to me,
Or you won't pass th' M-50".

So you've finally travelled in Rolt's wake,
Now you can claim your prize,
As you look down at your wee small hoard,
You won't believe your eyes,
And you'll ask if it was worth it ?
But if the truth be told,
It's the Green & Silver in your head,
That's worth it's weight in gold.

Copyright Mick Farrell 2011