In The Fields Of Claraghatlea North

In the fields of Claraghatlea North far north and far away
The migrant redwings chirping in the dawning cold and gray
And the salmon swim upstream to spawn as yesterday's flood goes down
In the river known as Finnow within sight of Millstreet Town
On a wintery sort of morning with a high of four degrees
The wind from Clara mountain soughs in the windswept trees
The birds of song are silent on the wind ravaged hedgerow
And on the leafless beech tree the ill famed grey backed crow
One disliked by sheep farmers who lives by Nature's law
Birds that are recognizable by the harshness of their caw
In weather that is chilly quite cold enough to snow
A cold wind from Clara mountain across the old fields blow
And the cattle in the farm shed are bellowing for hay
Far north in old Duhallow from this Land far away.