Galway Bay

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland,

Then maybe at the closing of your day,

You can 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 stream,

The women in the meadow making hay,

Just to sit beside the turf fire in a cabin,

And watch the barefoot gosoons as they play.

Ooh

For the breezes blowing o'er the sea's from Ireland,

Are perfumed by the heather as they blow,

And the women in the uplands digging praties,