It Is Not My Mum Or My Dad's Fault

It is not my mum or my dad's fault since they are not to blame
If i am one of many who has faltered on the road to wealth and fame
It is not their fault in any way if in life i have not done well
I doubt they would feel proud of me for penning doggerel

For many years they are at peace by Cashman's lonely hill
The people who gave life to me are now forever still
Among many of the deceased of Millstreet at peace they forever do lay
And from the Town by Clara hill i do live far away

The young boy of the fifties is now showing his years in gray
For each and everyone of us there is a last night and day
And it will not matter to me then if i never knew of success, wealth and renown
I well may live my final days far south of Millstreet Town.

Of my memories of my first home-place in Claraghatlea  others i fail to impress
Their body language tells to me that they could not care less
Of my stories of the people of Duhallow and the Parish of Millstreet
And the old fields where the rushes grow and the waterways do meet

They quickly change the subject to cricket and football
Which is understandable that my memories mean nothing to them at all
Alone with all of my memories with no one of them to tell
Perhaps i ought to leave the past be since on it too much i dwell

It is not my mum or my dad's fault since they are not to blame
That i have not achieved in life success or wealth or fame
Near bald in my late sixties the years have left me looking old and gray
Far south of Clara mountain and the green fields far away.