Brown storm water flowing to the river in every stream, rill and drain
And the mountains are cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And cattle in farmyard sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
North of this Country in sky miles far away
...
There are millions of people in the World today
Who only know of life in the hardest way
The stateless, the homeless and the refugee
Who are condemned to a life of extreme poverty
...
Our life slowly ebbs away
We all live from day to day
The aristocrats just like the poor
Must all die that is for sure.
...
He's been driving trucks on the roads of Duhallow
For years and years long as I can recall
Bred and raised in Millstreet Town where he's still living
And in Millstreet he is known by one and all.
...
The sun lights up the high paddocks nearby
And there is a stillness in the evening sky
Close to mid Winter yet it seems like Spring
Yet magpie only bird that I hear sing.
...
Back there in the fields of the silver backed crow
Where Finnow the white river to the Blackwater flow
Deciduous trees sprouting new leaves and fruit bearing plants in their blooms of pink to gray
And the wildborn birds of song are singing today
...
He has done his travelling and the seeds of his genes he has sown
Yet his children to him strangers and to them he is not known
In an old people's home in his early nineties his travelling days are in the past
All he has now are his memories and time on him is ticking fast
...
Like many others i am one who has known of inner strife
But i am one who has been quite lucky in life
Though not known to the manager of any bank
Just one who answers to Francy or Francis or Frank
...
Though tinged with some sadness old memories can be a source for joy
When i think of the Ireland i knew as a boy
The decades of time the memory does span
To the days of the Irish travellers of the romany horse drawn caravan
...