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I left in the summer of ’81, the whole world at my feet,
But something in my wardrobe, that summer made me frown,
My blazer it was hanging there, Newry High School brown!
For seven years before that, The Model did not care,
Uniform, our own clothes, hand-me-downs, we’d wear,
Even clothes with holes in, teachers ne’er said boo,
But then I went to Newry High School, the blazer colour….poo!
How’d they decide the colour? What were the guvnors thinking?
Had they given it any thought? Maybe they’d been drinking,
It actually was a good school, one of the best in the town,
But messed it up when they decided….Newry High School brown.
The sports teams were fantastic, they excelled out on the field,
With the rugby ball in their hand or the hockey stick they’d wield,
They could’ve changed the colour of strip, to me it was quite baffling,
To have a strip that made the others fall round the field all laughing.
St Colman’s College had it easy, blue was their decision,
Pity Newry High School picked one perfect for derision,
The colours of the rainbow, more than enough to go around,
Why on earth must mine have to be Newry High School brown?
The modern generation, they really have been lucky,
A group came to conclusion, and it was rather plucky,
New guvnors had a re-think and boy they got it right,
Blazer has been changed to grey, no longer the colour of sh*te!
Was my school life that bad? I made some friends for life,
Didn’t meet my Mrs there, St Mary’s schooled my wife,
I got my education there while looking like a clown,
Maybe it helped me concentrate, wearing Newry High School brown.
Mark Morton
(My poetic tribute to a sad chapter in Newry High School's History.)
