The narrow road by old Mushera it winds up and down
The backway from Cork through Rylane that ends at Millstreet Town
In Winter the drivers crawl slow through the fog
That steals down the mountain and cloaks Togher Bog
But the scenery is breathtaking on a nice Summer's day
For the tourist who drives on the mountain roadway
The Boggeragh Ranges above you the valley below
By the hills where gorse, heather and bracken do grow
Where in Spring and in Summer the male lark does fly
Up from the rank bracken to sing in the sky
A small speck in the universe till in gray clouds he disappear
The bird out of sight though his music one hear
On the narrow high road by Mushera from here far away
The tourist amazed at the beauty today.
The backway from Cork through Rylane that ends at Millstreet Town
In Winter the drivers crawl slow through the fog
That steals down the mountain and cloaks Togher Bog
But the scenery is breathtaking on a nice Summer's day
For the tourist who drives on the mountain roadway
The Boggeragh Ranges above you the valley below
By the hills where gorse, heather and bracken do grow
Where in Spring and in Summer the male lark does fly
Up from the rank bracken to sing in the sky
A small speck in the universe till in gray clouds he disappear
The bird out of sight though his music one hear
On the narrow high road by Mushera from here far away
The tourist amazed at the beauty today.
