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 the turf fire in a cabin

And watch the barefoot gosoons as they play

For the breezes blowing o'er the sea's from Ireland

Are perfumed by the heather as they blow

And the women in the uplands digging praties

Speak a language strangers do not know

And if there's gonna be a life here after

And faith somehow I'm sure there's gonna be

I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven

In that dear land across the Irish sea

For the strangers came and tried to teach us their ways

They scorned us just for being what we are

But they might as well go chasin' after moon beams

Or light a penny candle from a star