FORTY SHADES OF GREEN

I close my eyes and picture the emerald of the sea
From the fishing boats at Dingle to the shores of Donaghadea
I miss the River Shannon, the folks at Skibbereen.
The moorlands and the meadows and the forty shades of green.
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town.
And most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdown.
Again I want to see and do the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Shalamar
And there's forty shades of green.

I wish I could spend an hour at Dublin churning stuff
I'd love to watch the farmer drain the bog and spade the turf
To see again the thatching of straw the women clean
I'd walk from Cork to Laren to see the forty shades of green
But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town
and most of all I miss her lips as soR as eiderdown
Again I want to see and do the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Shalamar
And there's forty shades of green

@Irish @home
filename[ GREEN40
ZX
oct99
mudcat.org

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