Michael “Mickey” Marley (died 28 April 2008) was a street entertainer from Belfast, Northern Ireland. Born in the Markets area of Belfast, but spending most of his life on the Grosvenor Road in the Falls area of West Belfast, Marley was a common sight in Belfast City Centre for over forty years. Drawn by his horse, Joey, Marley would tour the streets of Belfast with his hobby-horse roundabout. When he retired he sold the roundabout to the Ulster Folk and Transport Museum. His local fame was enhanced by a recording of the song "Mickey Marley's Roundabout" (written by Belfastman Seamus Robinson) which was a popular children's request on BBC Radio Ulster. BBC Northern Ireland also made a documentary on his life. The 1973 film followed Marley's everyday life, against the backdrop of the heavy British Army presence on the streets of Belfast during the early years of the Troubles. 101 Lyrics of “Mickey Marley’s Roundabout” by Barnbrack Micky Marley had a wee horse He kept it at the back of the house of course It wouldn't eat grass and it wouldn't eat hay But it would eat sugarlumps all day Micky got wood and wheels for a start Then he sat down and made a wee cart He hammered and he hammered and he foutered about Until he had built a roundabout Chorus Round and round and up and down, Through the streets of Belfast town, ''All the children laugh and shout," "For here comes mickys roundabout" And then he went from street to street A penny a time and pick your seat A hobby horse or a motorcar Jump on son and hold the bar The children's faces smile with glee Laughs and smiles a sight to see You haven't got a penny and your ma's gone out You can still get on his roundabout (Chorus) But then alas to his dismay The roundabout was burnt one day Poor Micky lost everything he had And all the children were so sad But his friends they gathered round From every part of Belfast town They hammered and they hammered and they fouterd about and built him a brand new roundabout (Chours) Hobby horses don't get old I'm winter beds they all feel the cold But Micky knows each winter pass The roundabout is still at last No more we'll hear the happy sounds Of his roundabout in Belfast town We