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