Growing up in Greenock
The Broomy it was home to me
In a different time and place
My mind drifts back to long ago
And brings a smile upon my face
Bruno's chips and tick fae Pat
And lard from the butchers shop
The Broomhill Bar and tally vans
Which Bruno always tried to stop
Snowball fights in winter-time
And sledges racin doon the hill
And snowmen seen in every green
And extra socks to fight the chill
In summertime the days were long
We wandered far and we were free
To climb the hills and walk the cut
As long as we were hame for tea
Fitba games and soldiers too
And curby on the street
And tennis at the Mill St Park
And youth clubs where we would meet
Morton games and Morton rolls
And pies and Bovril too
The Cowshed boys and Dublin end
They all come into view
Drunken men with change for weans
And fights ootside the pub
Fish and chips and carry oots
Now where's the joy, ah there's the rub
Nick-names runnin through ma mind
Reminds me of so many friends
Some-how faded in the mists of time
When did our names come to an end?
There was Squid and Elmo, big Slim too
Snooper, Scally, Paw and Sire
Now all the names have ceased to be
In time these alias's retire
There was railroad tracks and chooky hens
And rope-works in dis-repair
Harry Friels and the Murdy dam
Ye dare not swim in there
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poem by Frank McEleny
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