Ireland! Mother Ireland!
I went home this year to Ireland with a friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
We stayed with David Rice outside of Dublin.
He's the priest who wrote of priests who need to love.
And we talked those Winter days and nights in Tallaght
with the married priests and with the wives they love
We met religious prophets there in Dublin
working hard to change religions role,
reclaiming Celtic Christian life in Ireland.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in their soul!
I visited the people with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
We went to Aris Cronain for the spirit
of a people claiming that which is their own:
their language, song and music and their laughter
and a culture lost to English for too long.
'Tho to their eyes I was but a stranger
I knew that I was home among my own
and I felt I knew them somewhere in my memory.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in our soul!
Then I rode the train to Longford with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
At Mostrim Station looking through the faces
among the people waiting for the train
we searched for Bobby Farrell's face among them
and my heart leaped as my cousin spoke my name.
Thirteen years and generations were between us
but I saw his eyes and felt that I'd come home.
Back to Edgeworthstown in Winter! Back to Longford!
Ireland! Mother Ireland in his soul!
Then to Aughfinn he drove me with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
So many say that Ireland in the Winter
is not the place that it's cracked up to be.
With Summer gone the green turns ban in Winter
with snow and cold damp wind there to greet me.
My cousin's wife Ann welcomed us with "Failte!"
We talked long hours and stories were retold.
Tea and "Paddy's" warmed us in the Winter twilight.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in our soul!
Up the Granard Road I walked without my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland
My peace from me you stole.
After talking long with family in the kitchen
I went outside and walked the snowy road
and the cold wind wiped the tears of joy from my face
as voices called out to me from of old.
So I walked up to the graveyard on the Granard
and ancient strength and love now warmed the cold
as my Farrell family welcomed me to Longford.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in their soul!
Then I traveled back to Dublin with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from my you stole.
As we left Mostrim Station and my family
my eyes fogged from the climate deep within.
For I knew my home was in the heart of Ireland
in Edgeworthstown where my roots begin.
The plane flew out of Dublin that cold Winter
but the warmth of Ireland stirred within my soul.
For the beauty's in the people, not the green hills.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in my soul!
Copyright 1995, C‡it Finnegan
I went home this year to Ireland with a friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
We stayed with David Rice outside of Dublin.
He's the priest who wrote of priests who need to love.
And we talked those Winter days and nights in Tallaght
with the married priests and with the wives they love
We met religious prophets there in Dublin
working hard to change religions role,
reclaiming Celtic Christian life in Ireland.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in their soul!
I visited the people with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
We went to Aris Cronain for the spirit
of a people claiming that which is their own:
their language, song and music and their laughter
and a culture lost to English for too long.
'Tho to their eyes I was but a stranger
I knew that I was home among my own
and I felt I knew them somewhere in my memory.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in our soul!
Then I rode the train to Longford with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
At Mostrim Station looking through the faces
among the people waiting for the train
we searched for Bobby Farrell's face among them
and my heart leaped as my cousin spoke my name.
Thirteen years and generations were between us
but I saw his eyes and felt that I'd come home.
Back to Edgeworthstown in Winter! Back to Longford!
Ireland! Mother Ireland in his soul!
Then to Aughfinn he drove me with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from me you stole.
So many say that Ireland in the Winter
is not the place that it's cracked up to be.
With Summer gone the green turns ban in Winter
with snow and cold damp wind there to greet me.
My cousin's wife Ann welcomed us with "Failte!"
We talked long hours and stories were retold.
Tea and "Paddy's" warmed us in the Winter twilight.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in our soul!
Up the Granard Road I walked without my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland
My peace from me you stole.
After talking long with family in the kitchen
I went outside and walked the snowy road
and the cold wind wiped the tears of joy from my face
as voices called out to me from of old.
So I walked up to the graveyard on the Granard
and ancient strength and love now warmed the cold
as my Farrell family welcomed me to Longford.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in their soul!
Then I traveled back to Dublin with my friend
never thinking of the beauty that would rend
my heart and soul.
Ireland! Mother Ireland!
My peace from my you stole.
As we left Mostrim Station and my family
my eyes fogged from the climate deep within.
For I knew my home was in the heart of Ireland
in Edgeworthstown where my roots begin.
The plane flew out of Dublin that cold Winter
but the warmth of Ireland stirred within my soul.
For the beauty's in the people, not the green hills.
Ireland! Mother Ireland in my soul!
Copyright 1995, C‡it Finnegan
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