Clip clop, clip clop all the mornings through,
To visit the neighbourhoods for me and you.
Creaking and groaning to hoof beaten song,
An old milk wagon rolls as it's pulled along.

The serenade changes, at every regular stop,
With rattling bottles in a full for empty swap
Glass filled with white and cream on the rise
Sealed with a paper cap before early sunrise.

Then clip and clop and the horse is in motion
Driver loading bottles, no need of instruction
Gentle urgings only when somethings amiss.
Day by day, year after year together like this.

And each day ends with oats and gentle curry
In the stables out behind the Royal Oak Dairy
The streets are silent, devoid of jingling style
The scent of their living rests in memory file.

Sometimes on a sun broke summer morning,
And lake bred mist part with bright warming,
I hear music of harness and horse shoe cleats
It's the Royal Oak horses on Hamilton streets