Back There In Ballydaly

Back there in Ballydaly late Autumn hedgerows getting bare
And brown dry leaves from their trees falling in the frosty morning air
And the swallows have departed to Winter on a warmer shore
Far south of their old home fields a thousand miles or more.

The drains are full of water and the river is in flood
As it flows bank high through rushy fields the colour of brown mud
Brown dunnock on the windswept bush doesn't have a song to sing
And he will retain his silence till April of the Spring.

Above the moonlit Villages and many a rural town
The redwing thrushes from the northlands at night are travelling down
To the fields and woods of Ballydaly where till Spring they will remain
When the urge to breed is in them they will journey north again.

Back there in Ballydaly a half a world away
In the windbreaks by the hedgerows the frosted grass is gray
And the dark rain clouds in the morning sky tell rain is very near
And the wind it has a chill in it at this time of the year.

Back there in Ballydaly the river bank high flow
And on the bare horse chestnut tree the bird known as the gray crow
Is cawing on a high branch his voice one can't mistake
But at this time of year the thrushes and the finches are silent at daybreak.