Dungarvan Gala Week
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Remember back when we had the craic and Brendan Bowyer was king
We’d hucklebuck, rock around the clock and twist and jive and swing
In Grattan Square for a week of the year people came to do their thing
From as far away as Cappagh, Clonea, Ballinroad, Old Parish and Ring
Old Parish and Ring, doing their thing
There was young and old, shy and bold and they all dressed up to the nines
There was grannies, babbies, mammys, daddys, and wans doing steady lines
There was mini-skirts and see-through shirts with psychedelic designs
And teddy-boys were making noise, eating chips outside Sheehan-Ryans
Doing steady lines, outside Sheehan-Ryans
The royal aces, excited faces, the crowd were singing along
The tropics playing the top hits and safari going strong
Be god then, both the squadron and the fugitives were on song
All local stars with drums and guitars and they fairly giving it fong
Singing along, giving it fong
Drinking for hours in Tommy Powers, you’d think t’was a mighty drought
A couple of rows outside the Gows that were sorted out with a clout
It was no surprise that The Enterprise was selling large bottles of stout
The brewery at Powers working extra hours in case the pubs would run out
A mighty drought, large bottles of stout
So here’s to the day we earned our pay in pounds and shillings and pence
When Christian Brothers and reverend mothers were trying to teach us sense
When we could joke and have a smoke and no-one would take offence
When we were unique and gala week was one of the great events
Shillings and pence, great events
Remember back when we had the craic and Brendan Bowyer was king
We’d hucklebuck, rock around the clock and twist and jive and swing
In Grattan Square for a week of the year people came to do their thing
From as far away as Cappagh, Clonea, Ballinroad, Old Parish and Ring
Old Parish and Ring, doing their thing
