Where The Sullane Waters Flow

I visualize the happy times of Seasons long ago
In Macroom Town in Mid Cork where the Sullane Waters flow
Babbling through a green old countryside on it's journey to the sea
Through fields and by hedgerows, ditches and groves it flows eternally
It was flowing long before the dinosaur age the river old as time
And it has inspired great stories and the mid Cork Poets to rhyme
Under the bridge by the Castle Grounds it winds it's way downhill
Where in the Spring the glossy one blackbird with golden bill
Is singing in the evening breeze on branch of old oak tree
The territorial song his ancestors have sung for many a century
The hawthorns heavily laden in their blooms of white to gray
And lush fields looking beautiful in their wildflowers of the May
And the redbreast robin sings in the grove in the green Season of bloom
By the Sullane as it babbles on through the fields near old Macroom.