If kilbirnie was a harp with strings
I’d surely sweep a strain,
An everlasting melody
Which no man could restrain
I’d write a song of thanksgiving
Of peace and love and cheer
To bless the town with all its woes
Bring pleasure to their ears
I’d play the song on knoxville road
And at the Walker Hall
I’d play it at the Labour club
While drunkards take their fall
I’d play the harp so silently
For those who hate the sound
To aid them out of hopelessness
To turn their lives around
I’d sweep a strain of sad refrain
At steel works passing by
I’d touch upon a melody
And older folks would cry
I’d play it softly at the match
While folks would cheer their team
And move along the park so long
To watch the Garnock stream
I’d play the harp across the tracks
As cyclists speed me by
I’d play and wait at graveyard’s gates
For mourners with their sighs
I’d play it at the Garnock’s heart
Right up at Jacob’s Well,
where no one goes to see it flow
Or care to even tell
I’d play a tune right at the school
The Children would be pleased
I’d pass the harp to little ones
To hold upon their knees
So to the town with all my sounds
And everlasting strains
I leave the harp right at the cross
For others who remain
To strain their sounds of happiness
And hope for all the town
To watch it grow with sadness no!
As an everlasting crown.
