In Fancy I See Clara

In fancy I see Clara in his rugged face of brown
Overlooking the old green fields that border Millstreet Town
And the little lark is caroling as upwards he does fly
And though out of sight his tinkling notes sweet music in the sky
It is many thousands of miles from here to Hibernia's windswept shore
And another two hours drive by car to the slopes of Claramore
It may seem far in distance from here far north and far away
But in my flights of fancy I am back home every day
Brown flood waters are gurgling in the flooded roadside drain
And old Finnow bank high flowing swollen by recent rain
The rushy fields of Claraghatlea to me look much the same
As they did look when I was young where each field has it's own name
Fond memories don't die easily till death in us they do remain
And in my flights of fancy I am back home again.