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If you ever go across the sea to Ireland
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You were sit and watch the moon rise over cladagh
And see the sun go down on Galway bay
Just to hear again the ripple on the trout stream
The women in the meadow making hay
And to sit beside a turf fire in a cabin
And watch the barefoot gasuns at their play
For the breezes blowing over the sea from Ireland
Are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the highlands digging pratties
Speak a language that the strangers do not know
For 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 on a star
And if there's going to be a life hereafter
And somehow I'm sure there's going to be
I will ask my god to let me make my heaven
In that dear isle across the Irish sea
