In the grayness of a chilly November Dawn
The salmon are swimming up current to spawn
Of the Duhallow rivers as the flood does subside
The will to breed in them cannot be denied
Their lives are in danger at this time of year
As they run the gauntlet of the poachers gaff and spear
Some of them do die in the act of foul play
As victims of poachers which seems sad to say
And only the luckiest fish do survive
And make it back to the saltwater alive
From the predation of humans with luck on their side
In their spawning Season death they have defied
And will return to their birth river for to spawn next year
And run the gauntlet of the poachers gaff and spear.