In the City of Chicago,
As the evening shadows fall,
There are people dreaming,
Of the hills of Donegal.

Eighteen forty seven,
Was the year it all began,
Deadly Pains of hunger,
Drove a million from the land,
They journeyed not for glory,
Their motive not for greed,
A voyage of survival,
Across the stormy sea.

In the City of Chicago,
As the evening shadows fall,
There are people dreaming,
Of the hills of Donegal.

Some of them knew fortune,
And some them knew fame,
Most of them knew hardship,
And died upon the plain,
They spread throughout the nation,
Rode the railroad cars,
Brought their songs and music,
To ease their lonely hearts.

In the City of Chicago,
As the evening shadows fall,
There are people dreaming,
Of the hills of Donegal.