I may not grow old where I live at present and who knows where I'll live out my life span
I was born and raised far north in Duhallow and I will die as a Millstreet man
And when the Reaper takes the life's breath from me who knows where my bones are destined to lay
Perhaps in some southern graveyard far from where I first saw lamp of day.
I could become a Naturalized Aussie but an Aussie on paper is all I would be
Some say we are what we do think that we are with such wisdom one must agree
Still I never could pass as an Aussie my accent is a give away
I am a migrant in Australia and I'd feel like a stranger in Millstreet today.
Yet I love this great Land Australia the home of emu, wombat and roo,
Rosellas and possums and wallabies and many types of cockatoo
Kookaburra and silver billed magpie who sings the twelve months of the year
And lyrebird the World's greatest mimic his song is a joy for to hear.
I am one from Millstreet in Duhallow a place I may not see again
But in fancy I see the fog roll across Clara the fog that comes before the rain
Still I love this sunny Land Australia this great Land surrounded by sea
And I could become an Aussie on paper but would that make an Aussie of me?
I was born and raised far north in Duhallow and I will die as a Millstreet man
And when the Reaper takes the life's breath from me who knows where my bones are destined to lay
Perhaps in some southern graveyard far from where I first saw lamp of day.
I could become a Naturalized Aussie but an Aussie on paper is all I would be
Some say we are what we do think that we are with such wisdom one must agree
Still I never could pass as an Aussie my accent is a give away
I am a migrant in Australia and I'd feel like a stranger in Millstreet today.
Yet I love this great Land Australia the home of emu, wombat and roo,
Rosellas and possums and wallabies and many types of cockatoo
Kookaburra and silver billed magpie who sings the twelve months of the year
And lyrebird the World's greatest mimic his song is a joy for to hear.
I am one from Millstreet in Duhallow a place I may not see again
But in fancy I see the fog roll across Clara the fog that comes before the rain
Still I love this sunny Land Australia this great Land surrounded by sea
And I could become an Aussie on paper but would that make an Aussie of me?
