I wrote this song to win a bet. A dispute over the talents of  a certain Irish songwriter led me to claim that I could write a typical Irish song in one night. It did get a darker twist at the end, when the longing for the "old country" is revealed as a death wish- the longed for land is not Erin but Tir Nan Og.

Oh my heart is ever yearning for the clear air of The mountains

Where the cool and crystal waters run down to the sea

And in my dreaming vision see a house among the heather

Where a dark eyed country maiden is waiting for me

 

And high up in the heaven a skylark Will be singing

The fishing boats come sailing back home ‘cross the bay

There'll be young lambs in the meadows and apples in the orchard

And a dram or two of whiskey at the ending of The day

 

I'm longing to wander in the fields of the west

Let the old mother country take me to her breast

For in that land of legend, (they say) youth will last forever

Oh, My home across the ocean, It's there I'll find rest

 

With poets and with scholars there'll be learned conversation

Peat smoke and old songs rise up to the sky

With company and laughter and joyful celebration

With heroes and fair ladies the nights will pass by

 

But it’s work for me tomorrow midnight now already

Outside my window the city sirens scream

Sleeps too long in coming with the pain in this old body

And my only consolation’s a fast fading dream