I often think of my friends so far away
Those friends of mine in not too distant day
I often think do they still think of me
Or am I just another memory?
I often think if I should go back home
That by my old friends I may not be known,
That I would be a stranger in Millstreet
A stranger to my old friends when we'd meet?
I often think that my old friends might say
Is he the one who wandered far away
He looks so old and what hair he's left is gray
And how come to where he went to he doesn't stay?
I often fear that mine might now be a strange face
Back in Millstreet County Cork my old home place
That absence might have brought about a change
And that those I knew might look on me as strange?
I often think do old friends remember me
In Ireland in the far Atlantic sea
Or is mine just one more forgotten face
By Clara hill back in the old home place?
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