If you ever go across the seas to Ireland Then maybe at the closing of your day You will sit and watch the moonrise over Claddagh And see the sun go down on Galway Bay
To hear again the ripple of the trout stream The women in the meadows making hay To sit beside the turf fire in the cabin And watch the barefoot goosoons at their play
Oh. the breezes blowing o`er the sea from Ireland Are perfumed by the heather as they blow And the women in the upland digging praties Speak a language that the strangers do not know
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their ways They scorned us just 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 And somehow I am sure there`s going to be I will ask my God to let me make my heaven In that fair land beyond the Irish Sea
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