Lyric provided by www.seekalyric.com |
If you ever go across the sea to Ireland Then maybe at the closing of your day You can sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh And see the sun go down on Galway Bay. Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream The women in the meadow making hay Just to sit beside a turf fire in the cabin And watch the barefoot gossoons at their play. For the breezes blowing o'er the sea from Ireland Are perfumed by the heather as they blow And the women in the uplands digging praties Speak a language that the strangers do not know. Yet the strangers came and tried to teach us their way And 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 is going to be a life hereafter And faith, somehow I'm sure there's going to be I will ask my God to let me make my heaven In that dear land across the Irish sea. I will ask my God to let me make my heaven In my dear land across the Irish sea. In my dear land across the Irish sea... Thanks to Kimberly |