Clancy's trotter : comic song / words and music by Wm. B. Glenroy

VERSE 01: Michael Clancy lives in Harlem now a place you all know well,/He moved up there from Water street to be an Irish swell/He bought a “bung’d up” trotting horse from Mister Dan Malone,/And now he’s dead stuck on himself, the trotter is his own./He spins along the boulevard each morning and each nigh’,/And with his wife beside him well,/He looks a fearful sight/He’ll hold a brush with anyone, the beast is lame and sore,/You can always tell he’s coming,/For you’re bound to hear the roar
CHORUS 01: Of “Whoopla”, says Clancy, as along the road he flies, “whoopla”, says Clancy, and the big whip he applies,/He lashes and he thrashes,/As ev’ry one he passes,/All Irish town is upside down with Clancy.
VERSE 02: Patsy Dorgan owns a trotter too that is no slouch you bet,/While driving up the boulevard both he and Clancy met,/They raced for just about a mile to see them was a treatm/The horses kept at neck and neck and neither one could beat.Then neither being satisfied a match was quickly made,/To trot the best three heats, in five,/Their money down they laid/They both began a training and each morning in the week,/You’d see them flying up the road, and surely heart the shriek
CHORUS 02: Of “Whoopla”, said Clancy, as along the road he’d dash, “whoopla”, says Clancy, and the old horse he would lash,/He said “you bet, by gorry,/I’ll make Pat Dorgan sorry, He ever made a match with Michael Clancy.”
VERSE 03: Patsy Dorgen is a milkman an he has a paying route,/Of course he used his trotting horse to cart the milk about/The moment Dorgan hollers “milk”, the old horse surely stops,/So when the day came for the race, to this old Clancy drops,/Well Dorgan won the first two heats, the next two Clancy got/They started for the final heat,/Th’ excitement it was hot,/Old Dorgan had the lead, you see, when Clancy hollered “milk”,/Pat’s horse stopp’d still, and Clancy won in his greenish suit of silk.
CHORUS 03: And “Whoopla”, yelled Clancy, as he passed the wire first, “whoopla”, says Clancy, “now I’ll go and quench my thirst”,/He treated all the heelers,/The peelers and the squealers,/And ev’ry one had lots of fun with Clancy.