I’ve seen all there is to see
Of County Antrim’s history.
From La Girona off Lacada
To the Troubles at Ballymoney.

Some twenty-four ships sank,
Spanish blood were of the crew,
Cry in terror, though they might,
With the waves, could not, they argue

But forgotten it was not
No, remember well, I do!
Had you seen those ships a’breaking,
You would remember, too.

From there I went to dream
In the softest grass I knew,
Off Runkerry strand, by the sea
The stars my only flambeau.

Though vibrant was the sea,
The wind tore my weary soul,
So traveled on, did I,
For Portglenone to console.

The bluebells of the forest,
They listened to my fears,
They stroked my golden hair,
And they wiped away my tears.

But then the flowers fell,
into sleep, deep in the ground.
So I left for Ballymoney,
To make my soul hidebound.

But oh! the things I saw
as the blood upon the cobbles.
The blessed IRA,
Brought us, the Time of Troubles.

Enough of that, had I,
So again, I fled the scene
This time to Portballintrae
For of there I was keen.

The old white homes they were,
No longer for the families.
As second homes they lived,
No longer white as daisies.

No longer did they hear
The constant sound of life
For half the year they stood,
As empty as an alewife.

So now that I am old,
I do dream upon the bridge
That covers Six Mile Water
And relive all of that damage.

Not all of it’s been bad,
These some odd hundred years,
I’ve lived and I have loved,
And I’ve cried a thousand tears.

I’ve seen all there is to see
Of County Antrim’s history.
From La Girona off Lacada
To the Troubles at Ballymoney.