LAND OF THE GAEL, THE
(Garry McMahon)


Recorded by: Garry McMahon; P.J. Murrihy; Elle Marie O'Dwyer





I wish I was westward of Dingle 
On the golden sands of Béal Bán
Where I'd wait for the mountain of Brandon
To appear in the red light of dawn
I'd gaze over Smerwick Harbour
See the yacht with its billowing sail
My body is here in the Bowery
But my heart's in the Land of the Gael

Too free with the juice of the barley** 
It softens my will and my brain
And whenever I save a few dollars
I fall off the wagon again
But I'm thinking of Kerry in Ireland
The Blaskets and fair Ceann Sibéal
When the sun is a red ball of fire
As it sets on the Land of the Gael

In my mind's eye I see every detail 
Her mountains, valleys and seas
The butterfly dancing a hornpipe
The thistledown flying in the breeze
The fuschia, loosestrife and cowparsley
The primrose that blooms in the vale
I'll pick the wild flowers in the Summertime
When I'm back in 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
I hear the sweet song of the skylark
And I list to the curlew's 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
Yes, 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


**This line is often sung as 'For the curse of the drink is upon me'






(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - July 2014)