You’d insist we shared the driving
As we left the city lights
In a clapped out Morris Minor
Heading west on Friday night
And the heater wasn’t working
And we never had a spare
But we called the old car “Flattery”
‘Cos she got us everywhere

And when we stopped to pitch the tent
It always seemed to rain
And it’s then that I’d discover
You’d forgotten the pegs again
And I couldn’t get the campfire lit
Now matter how I tried

But you’ll remember…
The roadside stops for bread and cheese
And supermarket wine
When the world was ours
And I was yours
And I thought you were mine

You’ll remember the Galway Races
And the man in the Harris Tweed
Just because he knew your father
He would do us a great deed
And the horse we bet our money on
O, I swear it’s running still
We were staying in a boarding house
And we couldn’t pay the bill

But you laughed when I went overboard
And you told me not to swear
Saying “The town is full of Yankees
“We’ll go busking in the square”
When the sun set on Galway Bay
For the eighty-second time
The world was ours
And I was yours
And I thought you were mine

Then you called me from the station
Just before you caught the train
To tell me you were leaving
And that I was not to blame
But you said that we’d no longer fight
And we could still be friends
But I knew by what you said that night
That we’d never meet again

And I must confess that it hurt like hell
And that I miss you yet
For you are not the kind of girl
That’s easy to forget
And sometimes, some half-forgotten fragment
Of you crosses my mind

And I remember…
The roadside stops for bread and cheese
And supermarket wine
When the world was ours
And I was yours
And I thought you were mine

(Written by Mickey MacConnell)