As I walked down the road on this fine autumn morn
I could see the great combine collecting the corn
And my mind wandered back in a moment of joy
To the day of the thresher when I was a boy

All over the valley you’d hear the strange sound
Of that mighty machine on its annual round
All the men in the townland would follow at will
And they’d all lend a hand with the old threshin’ mill

Then boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

There was two on the thresher and two on the stack
And the man with the fork kept the straw flyin’ back
There were bottles of porter and plenty of fags
And old Larry Andy looked after the bags

Then a few of the boys built the straw in a reek
While the young ones had fun playing hide and go seek
And myself and my brother with the dog and the cat
Had the time of our lives as we murder the rats

Then boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies would soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill

But the times keep on changing and nothing stands still
Larry Andy is gone like his old threshin’ mill
And most of the workers I knew as a child
Have reaped the great harvest for which they have toiled

No more in the valley we’ll hear that machine
For just like the corn crake they’re gone from the scene
But it makes me feel sad as I dream of it still
For I love the dear sound of the old threshin’ mill

Then boil up the bacon and the cabbage that’s green
Have plenty of spuds laced with butter between
For eight empty bellies will soon need a fill
For it makes a man hungry, the old threshin’ mill