As I rode down to Galway town to seek for recreation
On the seventeenth of August, me mind bein' elevated,
There was multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station,
Me eyes began to dazzle and they're going to see the races.

Chorus after every verse:
To me whack fol de do, fol de dideree idle day

There was passengers from Limerick and more from Tipperary,
The boys from Connemara and the Clare unmarried maidens,
And people from Cork city who were loyal true and faithful,
They brought home the Fenian prisoners from dying in foreign nations.

It's there you'll see confectioners with sugarsticks and dainties,
And lozenges and oranges and lemonade and raisins,
With gingerbread and spices to accommodate the ladies,
And a big crubeen for thrupence to be pickin while you're able.

It's there you'll see the pipers and the fiddlers competing,
The nimble-footed dancers, and they trippin through the daisies,
The others crying cigars and lights and bills for all the races,
With the colours of the jockeys and the price and horses ages.

It's there you'll see the jockeys, and they mounted on so stately,
The blue, the pink, the orange and green, emblem of our nation.
When the bell was rung for starting, the horses seemed impatient,
I thought they never stood on ground, their speed was so amazing.

There was half a million people there of all denominations,
The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew, and Presbyterian.
There was yet no animosity no matter what persuasion,
But fortune and hospitality inducing fresh acquaintance.