Tonight my mind is full of memories of the old home far away
By the Killarney Road near Millstreet Town where I first saw light of day
The male robin by the old house piped on the cypress tree
The Spring sun upon his red breast in fancy I can see
The hawthorns of the hedgerows cloaked in their blooms of white to gray
And the old fields green and grassy wear their wildflowers of the May
The Wildborn birds are nest building on the bushes and the trees
And their pleasant songs are carrying in the freshening morning breeze
The mental images of the past so very real does seem
The scratchy notes of the dipper are echoing in the stream
Amongst the knee high rushes the shy cock pheasant crow
And the loud song of the tiny brown wren can be heard in the hedgerow
It has been awhile since I lived there some twenty one years ago
But in my memory it hasn't changed a bit from the place I used to know.
By the Killarney Road near Millstreet Town where I first saw light of day
The male robin by the old house piped on the cypress tree
The Spring sun upon his red breast in fancy I can see
The hawthorns of the hedgerows cloaked in their blooms of white to gray
And the old fields green and grassy wear their wildflowers of the May
The Wildborn birds are nest building on the bushes and the trees
And their pleasant songs are carrying in the freshening morning breeze
The mental images of the past so very real does seem
The scratchy notes of the dipper are echoing in the stream
Amongst the knee high rushes the shy cock pheasant crow
And the loud song of the tiny brown wren can be heard in the hedgerow
It has been awhile since I lived there some twenty one years ago
But in my memory it hasn't changed a bit from the place I used to know.
