Slievenamon / Come Back Paddy Reilly / Mountains of Mourne / Doonaree
๐ต 1744 characters
โฑ๏ธ 4:25 duration
๐ ID: 26791484
๐ Lyrics
Alone all alone by the wave-washed
strand, all alone in a crowded hall.
The hall it is gay and the waves they
are grand and my love isn't here at all.
It flies far away by night and by day
to the times and the joys that are gone.
But I never will forget the maiden
I met in the valley near Slievenamon.
The Garden of Eden has vanished they
say, but I know the lie of it still.
Just turn to the left at the Bridge of
Finea and stop when halfway to Coothill.
It's there that you'll find it I'm not
sure enough but fortune still comes to my call.
The grass it grows green around
Ballyjamesduff and the blue sky is over it all.
But tones that are tender and tones that
are rough, still whispers come over the sea.
"Come back Paddy Reilly to
Ballyjamesduff, come home Paddy Reilly to me."
Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight.
With the people all working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat.
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street.
At least when I ask them that's what I was told.
I just took a hand at this digging for gold.
But from all that I found there I might as well be.
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
If you ever go to Ireland, I'm surely you'll agree.
To take the road from Dublin Town right down to Doonaree.
It's there you'll find the wishing well beyond the chestnut tree.
In a shady nook by the winding brook, will you make this wish for me?
Oh to be in Doonaree with a sweetheart I once knew.
To stroll in the shades of a leafy glade where the rhododendrons grew.
To sit with my love on the bridge above the rippling water fall.
But to go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all.
To go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all.
strand, all alone in a crowded hall.
The hall it is gay and the waves they
are grand and my love isn't here at all.
It flies far away by night and by day
to the times and the joys that are gone.
But I never will forget the maiden
I met in the valley near Slievenamon.
The Garden of Eden has vanished they
say, but I know the lie of it still.
Just turn to the left at the Bridge of
Finea and stop when halfway to Coothill.
It's there that you'll find it I'm not
sure enough but fortune still comes to my call.
The grass it grows green around
Ballyjamesduff and the blue sky is over it all.
But tones that are tender and tones that
are rough, still whispers come over the sea.
"Come back Paddy Reilly to
Ballyjamesduff, come home Paddy Reilly to me."
Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight.
With the people all working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat.
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street.
At least when I ask them that's what I was told.
I just took a hand at this digging for gold.
But from all that I found there I might as well be.
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
If you ever go to Ireland, I'm surely you'll agree.
To take the road from Dublin Town right down to Doonaree.
It's there you'll find the wishing well beyond the chestnut tree.
In a shady nook by the winding brook, will you make this wish for me?
Oh to be in Doonaree with a sweetheart I once knew.
To stroll in the shades of a leafy glade where the rhododendrons grew.
To sit with my love on the bridge above the rippling water fall.
But to go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all.
To go back home never more to roam is my dearest wish of all.