|
I got the hang of Irish Music |
|
When I saw the Gaelic shore |
|
All my continental fears |
|
Now seem such a bore |
|
The ferry boat took me to Dublin |
|
And the Shannon to the west |
|
To all the people and the hills |
|
My soul likes the best |
|
Now I am a Shamrock busker |
|
All the songs are for the free |
|
All the tunes and Irish airs |
|
Can't stand slavery |
|
We square the circle, start again |
|
We try and try, if all's in vain |
|
We're looking for a brand new morning |
|
Break the chain |
|
Now I am a rambling rover |
|
Roving over hilly land |
|
Lookin' for the final answer |
|
Written in sand |
|
I also jump in at the deep end |
|
Have a stout in Gallway town |
|
Also like the city lights |
|
They can't drag me down |
|
Didn't you know |
|
The Shamrock busker's songs |
|
To Ireland he belongs |
|
With all his wild dreams |
|
Whenever we will play an Irish tune |
|
The Shamrock revives |
|
Whenever we can see a waxing moon |
|
Tim Finnegan will rise |
