I close my eyes and picture, The emerald of the sea
From the fishing boats at Dingle, to the shores of Dunadee
I miss the river Shannon, and the folks at Skipperee
The moorlands and the meadows, with their forty shades of green.
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town
And most of all I miss her lips, as soft as eider-down.
Again I want to see and do, the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green.
I wish that I could spend an hour, at Dublin's churning surf.
I'd love to watch the farmer, drain the bog and split the turf.
To see again the thatching, of the straw the woman glean
I'd walk from Corke to Larn to see, the forty shades of green.
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town
And most of all I miss her lips, as soft as eider-down.
Again I want to see and do, the thigns we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green.
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green
From the fishing boats at Dingle, to the shores of Dunadee
I miss the river Shannon, and the folks at Skipperee
The moorlands and the meadows, with their forty shades of green.
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town
And most of all I miss her lips, as soft as eider-down.
Again I want to see and do, the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green.
I wish that I could spend an hour, at Dublin's churning surf.
I'd love to watch the farmer, drain the bog and split the turf.
To see again the thatching, of the straw the woman glean
I'd walk from Corke to Larn to see, the forty shades of green.
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town
And most of all I miss her lips, as soft as eider-down.
Again I want to see and do, the thigns we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green.
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar, and there's forty shades of green