At the Daylesford festival the Tinkerman from Sligo
On his guitar played tunes from long ago
The tunes he heard his traveller father play
When he was young in Connacht far away.
Outside his caravan in the mid morning
A group of people sitting on the ground
Were listening to the oldest tunes of Ireland
To them the music had a foreign sound.
In between tunes he told old Celtic stories
The myths and legends from the long ago
I liked his tale the sweet song of lone raven
Who fell in love and then cawed like a crow.
A tinker's side car and a small gray pony
A gypsy van pulled by his motor car
He play his tunes to all who care to listen
And sing his songs to banjo and guitar.
He travels with his wife and little baby
I cannot say whether a girl or boy
Will he or she grow up to be an Aussie
And leave paternal tinker side to die? .
He lives at Maldon close to Castlemaine
And he travels to the festivals nearby
A friendly bloke he has a humorous side
I've never known a tinker to be shy.
With long brown hair and beard and dressed in black leather
He sings the songs of Ireland long ago
I saw him at the festival in Daylesford
'Riordan the wandering minstrel from Sligo'.