THE MILL

In darling Tyrone I was born, that County unequalled for fun.

‘Twas there on a fine harvest morning my earthly adventures begun

For forty long years as a rover, I’ve rambled the country at will

Now I’m settled and living in clover, convenient to Tattykeel Mill.

You don’t know the mill by the book Sir,? You must be an innocent chap,

If you just take the trouble to look, Sir, it’s there on the front of the map.

And here’s an advice I’ll be giving – take it or not as you will

If you want to find life worth the living, you’ll have to call round by the mill.

Away back to the dark misty ages, the mill has been always the same

And judging by history’s pages, a place of great learning and fame

‘Tis a kind of a countryman’s college, and Cannon, that lived on Goathill

Picked up all his wonderful knowledge in days that he spent at the Mill.

When first I made Cannon’s acquaintance I thought I was getting on well

But I sat on the stool of repentance, and rested myself for a spell

I hadn’t a leg for to stand on, my knowledge was practically mil

Till I had a few lessons from Cannon, and learned the ways of the Mill.

I took very well with the teaching, and found that a man need not fear,

The doctrine that spoilsports are preaching as long as his conscience is clear.

Pat Levy declares that its nonsense that conscience can never be still,

But Cannon declares that your conscience, could sleep for a month at the mill.

But if I should meet you returnin’ when you’ve been a while on the spot

I hope you’ll thank me for the learnin’ or anything else you have got.

But if you are sadder or wiser, remember I wished you no ill,

And kindly don’t blame the adviser, that told you to call at the Mill