| You can sing of all your sport’n hero’s | 
| Like Mr. (McGranderas) | 
| But there’s a horse in the county of Wicklow | 
| That’s beaten all of the best | 
| The slowest humper, the lowest jumper | 
| The great for a straw 'round the park | 
| The servant lasses, the upper classes | 
| And daughters of millionaires | 
| They all appear from far and near | 
| For a ride on Ronnie’s mare | 
| For a ride on Ronnie Drew’s mare | 
| In (Graystone's) town on a Sunday morning | 
| A crowd will always appear | 
| To catch a glimpse of the famous mare | 
| They call the horse of the year | 
| She’s the best at racin', but sees no disgracin' | 
| In pulling a big old wee cart | 
| In the (Bardeby) bar boys talked of the horse show | 
| One said she ought to be showed | 
| She was (chiltered) and trained by the two Heaven’s boys | 
| And the grass by the side of the road | 
| Though she won 'm in Dublin without any troublin' | 
| Next day she was back in the cart | 
| Joe Sweeny the puncher suggested one day | 
| They should enter her in for a race | 
| So all was arranged, Billy Fox would be jockey | 
| And New Castle would be the place | 
| But the boys all agreed it, even if she succeeded | 
| She’d go back to deliverin' milk | 
| Well, the boys where there to lay out the ready’s | 
| And cheer the horse past the post | 
| But when Fox had a look at the competition | 
| He tottened as white as a ghost | 
| We’ll have some hassle to beat Willy Castle | 
| Says Ronnie «(fuck you sake)» | 
| The race it was tough, but the mare she was flyin' | 
| They knew that she couldn’t loose | 
| But in the midst of the celebrations | 
| Arrived some tragic news | 
| In her finest hour all the milk had gone sour | 
| So now she was out of a job |