How can one make an Aussie out of me
Since an Aussie on paper is all that I would be
I'm an Irish person that and nothing more
One who lives far south of old Hibernia's Shore.
On where I was born I did not have a say
Birth is by chance and things happen that way
I've lived in time what does seem a lengthy span
Out of Duhallow but I'm still a Duhallow man.
I'm one who could never lay claim to be brave
And any Nation's flag I never once did wave
Since love of National flags and Nationalism to war are known to lead
And of such things in my life I've never felt the need.
In my flights of fancy I can hear the babbling rill
As it hurries down the high field by the hill
And I hear and see the lark as upwards he does fly
Above the bog a small speck in the sky.
Everytime one feels the urge to visualize
Familiar faces are in the memory eyes
And though I've not seen the Homeland for twenty one years
For what has been i don't shed any tears.
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