And he drove his lorry through the long tiring day
For an owner driver there’s no easy pay.
A load of cattle to the fair in Kanturk
Might well be the start for him of a hard day’s work
And a few loads of gravel and a load of sand or two
To be delivered to customers before his day was through.
But September perhaps his busiest month of all
For the turf was stacked and dry in Gneeves in the Fall
And the hilly road he journeyed up and down
That leads from Gneeves bog to Millstreet Town.
One of the six Dennehy brothers that I knew of or I knew
Jer, Sonny, Jack and Christy and Bill I heard of too
From small lake on their mountain farm their sobriquet came
And their children now still carry the nick name.
Con the Lake’s second son Dan is an owner driver today
Like father like son it often seems that way
He to rise early drive before daylight
And he often works long hours into the night.
The mountain field by fog covered in gray
And the birds pipe in the early dawn of day
And the ghost of Con the Lake is driving still
Up the steep road that leads to Gneeves hill.