A Fellow From Millstreet

Wherever i go to my past follows me
And a fellow from Millstreet is all i can be
From Claraghatlea in view of Clara Hill overlooking Claramore
In sky miles far north of this southern shore
The tag of the migrant to me may apply
But my heritage to anyone i never deny
And though far south of Claraghatlea i may live my last day
The memories of what used to be with me stay
Where mine to many was a well known face
Today i would be a stranger to most in my first homeplace
But the old fields i loved to me would look the same
Many of them i did know by their given name
A fellow from Millstreet i will be till the day i do die
To say any different would be telling a lie.