This is what I make of Murrihy's version, I hope someone can fill in the blanks or amend errors. A very powerful song.
I wish I was westward of Dingle,
On the golden sands of Ferbane,
Where I'd wait for the mountain of Brandon,
To appear in the red light of dawn.
I'd gaze over Smerwick harbour,
And the yacht with its billowing sail,
My body is here in the Bowery,
My heart's in the land of the Gael.
For the curse of the drink is upon me,
It softens my will and my brain,
And whenever I save a few dollars,
I fall off the wagon again.
But I'm thinkin' of lovely ??
The Blaskets and ??
When the sun is a red ball of fire,
As it sets on the land of the Gael.
Now the wind, like a knife it goes through me,
And with hunger I'm ready to fall,
And the snowflakes are swirling around me,
As I head for the church mission hall.
But I hear the sweet song of the skylark,
And I list to the curlews sad wail,
As over the ocean they call me,
To come back to the land of the Gael.
For it's fifty long years since I left it,
A young fellow still in my teens,
Did I ever return, now you ask me?
I go back every night in my dreams.
But the call of my homeland's all-powerful,
And I'm certain this time I'll not fail,
Then I'll hear my own tongue, and again I'll be young,
When I'm home in the land of the Gael.