If you ever go across the sea to Ireland Then maybe at the closin' of your day You will sit and watch the moonrise over Claddagh And watch the barefoot gossoons at their play
Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream The women in the meadows makin' hay And to sit beside a turf fire in the cabin And see the sun go down on Galway Bay
For the breeze's blowin' o´er the seas from Ireland Are perfumed by the heather as they blow; And the women in the upland diggin´ praties Speak a language that the strangers do not know
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way They scorned us just for bein' what we are But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams Or light a penny candle from a star
And if there's goin' to be a life hereafter And fate I'm sure there´s goin' to be I will ask my God to let me make my heaven In that dear land across the Irish sea
