I walk away from this ***** grey quay, step onto an equally ***** old boat
Only God and a sailors skill will keep this old thing afloat

I'm saying goodbye to the place that I know, a place of hunger and toil
I sail in search of the promised land, of sunshine and rich fertile soil

Will I look back to the place that I've left as I sail off over the sea?
No, for it might drag me back to a place where I don't want to be

Like the brave men of old I have to be bold in the search for my new destiny
I leave behind a life of servitude for a new life where I can be free

No magical skills do I bring with me, just a love of the land and the soil
But in my new promised land I will be free and for only myself will I toil

In my bag a handful of seed, a small Axe and a knife that I own
But its with these crude tools in my promised land I'll carve out a place to call home

The ship sails on and old Ireland is gone 'tis now just a faint memory
Soon I'll be there breathing freedoms fresh air in my new land the land of the free

For many long years I have wandered
For many long years I have roamed
But a voice in my head is now calling
Calling me back to my south country home

I have walked in your tropical forests
Experienced the hot desert sun
Climbed the high mountains snow capped peaks
In your lakes and blue seas I have swum

But now a voice is calling me back
Back to where I was born
Once more to walk in the pinewoods
Under blue skies and a warm summer sun

Many years ago I did leave her
As a youth so fearless and bold
Now I hear my south country calling me back
To the place where I can grow gracefully old

I will never forget all the friends that I made
As I wandered your far distant shores
And if ever you visit my south country
You will find a welcome sign over my door

I want to wrap you up in yesterdays news like fish and chips,
Spending late nights tangled up in seaweed
On a shore that will never be the same
As tomorrow or the one before.