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If you ever go across the sea to Ireland |
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Then maybe at the closing of your day |
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You can sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh |
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And watch the sun go down on Galway Bay |
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Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream |
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The women in the meadow making hay |
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To sit beside the turf fire in a cabin |
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And watch the barefoot gosoons as they play |
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For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way |
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They scorned us just for being what we are |
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But they might as well go chasing after moon beams |
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Or light a penny candle from a star |
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And if there's gonna to be a life in the hereafter |
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And somehow I'm sure there's going to be |
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I will ask my God to let me make my heaven |
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In that dear land across the Irish sea |