It May Not Be In Duhallow

I have lived through many a Season my life's journey's end cannot be far away
But it may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day
And i may never more see the Boggeraghs half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Or see tadpoles their long tails wriggling in Summer in the dark pool of a drain
Or hear the nesting songbirds singing in a leafy grove of the Spring
I feel lucky to have my gift of memory to have such is a beautiful thing
I retain the beautiful image of bluebells on the ditch of a bohreen
I count it as a sort of a blessing to retain memories of Nature's beauty i have seen
Us humans are born as mortals why otherwise even pretend
And like all i am on a life's journey that for me will come to an end
in my seventy years of living life's roads i have been up and down
A journey that began in Duhallow in the countryside near Millstreet Town
And it well may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day
Of what was i only have memories and the clock on my life ticks away.