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A Song for Ireland
Walking all the day,
Near tall towers where falcons build their nests.
Silver-winged they fly,
They know the call of freedom in their breasts.
Saw black head against the sky,
Where twisted rocks, they run to the sea.
Living on your western shore,
Saw summer sunsets, asked for more.
I stood by your Atlantic sea,
And I sang a song for Ireland.
Drinking all the day,
In old pubs where fiddlers love to play.
Saw one touch the bow,
He played a reel which seemed so grand and gay.
Stood on Dingle beach and cast.
In wild foam we found Atlantic bass.
Talking all the day,
With true friends who try to make you stay.
Telling jokes and news,
Singing songs to while the time away.
Watched the Galway salmon run,
Like silver dancing, darting in the sun.
Dreaming in the night,
I saw a land where no-one had to fight.
Waking in your dawn,
I saw you crying in the morning light.
Sleeping where the falcons fly,
They twist and turn, all in your rare blue sky.