GOING BACK TO IRELAND AT THE FAIR

Oh, you tell me Molly darling you are weary,

With a longing for your Irish hills again;

That you find the streets of Glasgow dull and dreary

Though the traffic makes a never ending train.

Then I promise you, mo chroi, 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 towards the misty distant 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.

​

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.

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 Loch Lomond.

Ah, 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.

​

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.

Yeah, we must go back to Ireland at the Fair.