From The Fields Of Claraghatlea

From the fields of Claraghatlea i live far away
And perhaps far from there my last remains will lay
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways is a source of joy

The passing of time has left me walking slow
And in Claraghatlea nowadays few there i would know
When i left there twenty six Winters back harsh December did blow
And old Clara Mountain wore his hat of snow

Time can make us strangers as some like to say
And to many in Millstreet i would be a stranger today
Some i have known there have migrated and some have died
A stranger in my first Hometown and birth countryside

Twenty six years have passed since i left Erin's shore
And Clara Hill overlooking Claramore
And in twenty six years there is many a Spring
Since i last did hear the male robin sing

Far from the fields of Claraghatlea and Matty Owen's bog
Where as a boy i hunted with Pudsy the dog
The years have left me looking older and gray
And there to many i would be a stranger today.