I'm A Fellow From Old Claraghatlea North

I'm a fellow from old Claragatlea North to say otherwise would be a lie
And a fellow from old Claraghatlea North i will be 'til the day that i die
When people ask me where i come from i say from a place far away
From the old fields by old Clara Mountain where i lived for many a day.

A fellow from old Claraghatlea North is all that i ever can be
Though few in the evergreen Townland would now know or recognize me
I was younger and fitter and stronger when i left two decades ago
When a cold wind blew across the old fields and Clara wore a hat of snow.

A fellow from old Claraghatlea North that's all i am and nothing more
Where the Finnow flows to the Blackwater on it's journey to the Atlantic shore
In fancy i often hear the dipper on a rock in the stream rapids sing
That flows by the grove to the river on a pleasant day in the Spring.

A fellow from old Claraghatlea North that is my only claim to fame
The fields there as i do remember are referred to by their given name
I hail from Millstreet in Duhallow and as a Claraghatlea man I'll remain
And often in my flights of fancy i walk in the old fields again.