We were on our way to Thurles At a hundred miles an hour When the driver and conductor Said, The train is losing power. The light began to flicker And the engine to misfire And the students speaking Gaelic said, Ní shroiceamíd Gleann Maghir. They sent along to Limerick And they got another train And the put rope around it And the pulled it back again. They rang around the country-side They rang into the school And told the students shivering It's better to keep cool. They started out at midnight When the lines again were clear, And galloped down through Mallow Like the ride of Paul Revere. The clock at one was pointing But they never closed an eye, And the soundest sleepers rattled As it sped below Fermoy. They found the Maistir waiting And his aghaidh was awful long As he shook his head in English And he asked them what went wrong. They answered back in Irish, That though they did their best, Because they were from Scoil na nÓg Nior thuigeadar a cheist.