Brown storm water flowing fast in every drain
And old Clara half cloaked in the grey fogs of rain
Few cars on the Main Street passing up and down
On Christmas Day morning in quiet Millstreet Town
Towards the Church at the West End the faithful make their way
For them it is just not an ordinary day
Whilst the non believers at home in bed lay
It is each to their own as the wise one does say
From the Christmas Eve celebrations the publicans have done well
They can afford to smile lots of grog they did sell
In life those who make the big profit are those who do win
And the hung over revellers having a sleep in
A time of year when the weather is mostly not fine
At Christmas on Duhallow the sun seldom shine
But at a time of feasting indoors on turkey and pudding they dine
And afterwards enjoy a few drinks of wine
All businesses closed on Christmas Day in the Town of Millstreet
And out walking few people one can hope for to meet
But on St Stephen's Day the shops and the pubs will be open for trade
And where money is spent money is to be made.
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