1.

Oh, old Blackpool I dread ye,
God knows you're never bate
For a fighter or poet or a cry in the throat
Of a hound at a five - bar gate.
And all your pigeons fly farther
Long and true like your bowl playing men,
But most of all I love ye
For the Spirit of the Glen.

2.

Oh, they knocked the old red chapel,
And they tamed the River Bride.
And they built a grotto on Dublin Hill,
But sure God was always by your side.
Where is the old club in the lane?
Since Molly Howe's it's not the same.
But they'll never change your hurling men
And the Spirit of the Glen.

3.

Oh, old Blackpool I dread ye,
Although at times you're low,
When "wise" ones say your hurlers now
Are not like long ago.
But sure you think they'd know by now
You'll always rise again
With another great team from Blackpool
And the Spirit of the Glen.

4.

Oh, old Blackpool I dread ye,
You'll never set me free.
At any time in any place,
You'll claim my loyalty.
And right or wrong, you're right by me,
Great women and great men.
They are the heart of sweet Blackpool
And the Spirit of the Glen.