Intro: D
If you ever go across the sea to Ire
land,
then maybe at the closing of your d
ay,
you can sit and watch the moon rise over C
laddagh,
and s
ee the sun go down on Galway Ba
y.
Just to hear again the ripple of the tr
out stream,
Th
e women in the meadow making ha
y,
just to sit beside the turf fire in a ca
bin,
and watch the barefoot gosoons as t
hey play
Fo
r the breezes blowing o’er the sea’s from
Irel
and,
Ar
e perfumed by the heather as they bl
ow,
An
d the women in the uplands digging pra
ties
Speak a l
anguage that the strangers do not
kn
ow.
Ye
t the strangers came and tried to teach u
s the
ir ways,
And t
hey scorned us just for being what we
a
re,
B
ut they might as well go chasin after moon
be
ams,
or
light a penny candle from a st
ar.
A
nd if there’s gonna be a life here af
ter,
And so
mehow I’m sure there’s gonna
be,
I wi
ll ask my God to let me make my He
aven,
In that dear land across the Iris
h sea.
I wi
ll ask my God to let me make my He
aven,
In my dear land across the Iris
h sea.
