Seamus Moore - The Old Threshing Mill

As I walked down the road on this fine autumn morn
I can see the great combine collecting the corn
And my mind wanders back in a moment of joy
To the day of the thresher when I was a boy

All over the valley you can hear the strange sound
Of a mighty machine on its annual round
And the men in the townland would follow at will
And they’d all lend a hand with the old threshing’ mill

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies would soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

There was two on the thresher and two on the stack
And the man with the fork kept the straw flyin’ back
There was bottles of porter and plenty of fags
And old Larry Andy looked after the bags

Then a few of the boys built the straw in a reek
While the young ones had fun playing hide and go seek
And meself and me brother with the dog and the cats
Had the time of our lives chasin’ after the rats

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies would soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

But the times keep on changing and nothing stands still
Larry Andy is gone like his old threshin’ mill
And most of the workers I knew as a child
Have all reaped the harvest for which they have toiled

No more in the valley we’ll hear this machine
For just like the corn crake its gone from the scene
And it makes me feel sad when I think of it still
For I love the dear sound of the old threshin’ mill

So boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies would soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

Yes it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

Written by:
John Duggan

Publisher:
Lyrics © BARDIS MUSIC, USA ATTN: PETER BARDON

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