Sweet meadows of Ireland I miss you so
where roses and clovers abundantly grow.
I often close my eyes and breath in with sorrow
because I know for sure youll be gone by tomorrow.
As I dream of you I dream of my past.
I smile with pride as I wish you to last
My mothers garden,oh I beg your pardon,
it belonged to you dear Ireland my land
It was fresh and green and everso wild
with beauty you wont understand
In the the distance the mountains stood like soldiers
tall and proud with the sky on their shoulders.
6 am when the birds would sing like a choir
My mother inside would be lighting the fire
We'd be bathed in a bucket when the house was warm
sounds strange these days but then t'was the norm
I remember when the school bell would sound
and in we'd rush taking best seat that we'd found
Miss would call out our names and 'anseo' we'd say
Which means' Im here' in gealge the Irish way
Ill never forget that church bell on sunday
All lined up at the whitechurch doors so neatly
I'd stand there and watch them dressed up so sweetly
I always wondered what they did inside
what was their book and who was thier guide?
Dad told me I could go if I wanted
But I was sure that place was haunted
One day in school the bishop came
stood silent and firm and the nuns were the same
Miss told me I could wait outside
but stayed and soaked in the catholic side
I went home confused and sat with my mother
'why do the nuns dress like you?'
My mother smiled and held my face
'They do alot of things we do too.'
I recall a day when I went to pray
in the mosque on clonskiegh road
It was breezy and bright and felt so right
but sadly our smiles never showed
Stunned people outside as we walked with pride
shaking thier heads in awe
'A religion like that' they'd say 'should be against the law!'
But never mind,they were a few.our friends were Irelands trees.
We all had eachother ,and together we were at ease.
Oh Ireland dont you forget me and ill not forget you
Keep a place for me and Ill keep a place for you.