Isle Of Innishfree

I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer,
And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say,
But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer,
When all the things he loves are far away.
And precious things are dreams unto an exile.
They take him o'er the land across the sea
Especially when it happens he's an exile,
From that dear lovely Isle of Inisfree.

And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops,
Of this great city, wondrous though it be,
I scarcely feel its wonder or its laughter...
I'm once again back home in Inisfree.

And then into a humble shack I wander
My dear old home I tenderly behold,
The folks I love around the turf fire gathered.
On bended knees, their rosary is told.

But dreams don't last
Though dreams are not forgotten
And soon I'm back to stern reality.
And though they pave the footways here with gold dust,
I still would choose my Isle of Inisfree.

End