GOING BACK TO IRELAND AT THE FAIR

Oh, you tell me Molly darling you are weary,

                With a longing for the Irish hills again;

That you find the streets of Glasgow dull and dreary

                Though the traffic is a never ending train.

Then I promise you, Machree, you’ll get your wishes

                Myself I’m feeling lonely, I declare

I’ve been dreaming of Tyrone among the bushes.

                So we must go back to Ireland at the fair.

When the Summer comes again we’re going over

                Just to roam the hills together, you and I

And I’ll kiss you once again among the clover

                Aye, we must go back to Ireland in July.

Every morning by the hillside we will wander

                And together reach the purple mountain’s rim

And looking toward the misty distance yonder

                We will see the hills of Derry, faint and dim

​

Oh, the music of the blackbirds and the thrushes,

                While the lark sends down a welcome from the air,

There’s enchantment in Tyrone among the bushes

                So we must go back to Ireland at the fair.

( Chorus )

In the evening through the glens we’ll go a-roaming,

                And recall the many joys of long ago

When we used to go a-courting in the gloaming –

                Joys that city born folk can never know.

And again upon your cheeks I’ll see the blushes

                And the fairy sunbeam glinting in your hair.

You are calling us, Tyrone among the bushes

                So we must go back to Ireland at the fair.