If you ever go across the sea to Ireland be it only at the closing of your days You can sit and watch the moon rise over Cladaur And see the sun go down on galway bay
Just to hear again the ripple of the trout-stream The women in the meadows making hay For to sit beside at her fire in a cavern And watch the bare-foot gossems at their play.
Oh the breeze is blowing o'er the sea from Ireland Are perfumed by the heather as they blow And the women in the uplands digging Speak a language that the strangers do not know.
Oh, the strangers came and tried to teach us their ways They scorned us for being what we are But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams Or light a penny candle from a star.
And if there's going to be a life hereafter As somehow I feel sure there's going to be I will ask my God to let me make my heaven In that dear land across the Irish SeaTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
