If you ever go across the sea to Ireland
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You will 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 scream
The women in the meadows making hay
And to sit beside a turf five- five in the cabin
And to watch the bare foot Gossoons at their play
For the breezes blowing o´er the seas from Ireland
Are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the uplands diggin´ praties
Speak a languague that the strangers do not know
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way
The scorn´d us just for being what we are
But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams
Or light a penny candle from a star
And if there's going to be a life here after
And somehow I am sure there´s going to be
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You will 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 scream
The women in the meadows making hay
And to sit beside a turf five- five in the cabin
And to watch the bare foot Gossoons at their play
For the breezes blowing o´er the seas from Ireland
Are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the uplands diggin´ praties
Speak a languague that the strangers do not know
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way
The scorn´d us just for being what we are
But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams
Or light a penny candle from a star
And if there's going to be a life here after
And somehow I am sure there´s going to be
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea