You bare a striking resemblance to Henry Winkler and here are the words as requested:

See the moon is once more rising
Above our land of black and green
Hear the rebals voice is calling
"I shall not die though you bury me."
Hear the Aunt in bed a-dying
"Where is my Johnny?"
Faded pictures in the hallway
Which one of these brown ghosts is he?

Fare thee well my black eyed diamond
Fare thee well my own Aisling
Thoughts and dreams of you will haunt me
Till I come back home again

And the wind that blows to the north and south
And blows to the east and west
And I will just be like the wind my love
For I will have no rest
Till I return to thee

Bless the wind that shakes the barley
Curse the spade and curse the plough
Walking in the morning early
I wish to hell I was with you now
One, two, three, four telegraph poles
Give me a drink of sweet poteen
Madness from the mountains crawling
When I first met you my own Aisling

Written by Shane...let me know, Den