St Johnston

It's not far from the border, this quiet wee town

It's near by the river - the Foyle of renown

Not many pass through it but those who do stop

Find kindness and cheer in faces and shop

It's people are friendly and just love to chat

About salmon and cricket and the latest bat

In summer it's beauty can be seen all around

The view from the hill, its like can't be found

Go down by the river and the old railway line

You'll see boats that are full and trains dead on time

You'll see the train coming by the smoke in the sky

And hear her pass through with a hiss and a sigh

You'll pass by the men who fish not for fun

But food for their family and the odd glass of rum

You'll know the fish-buyer he's wealthy and fat

He's the one with feather sticking out of his hat

You'll trip over boxes and nets on the shore

Full of silvery red salmon awaiting their score

The place was alive then with the odd hullabaloo

Alas this was the scene, in that year '62

Many a change has come and gone

The track is now silent, the river flows on

Progress may now be the name of the game

But the hearts of the people remain just the same

Margaret Campbell