Buachaill on Eirne me is bhreagfainn fein cailin deas og. Ni iarrfainn bo spre lei, ta me fein saibhir go leor Is liom Corcaigh da mheid e, dha thaobh
This old house is falling down around my ears I am drowning in a river of my tears When all my will is gone, you hold me, sway I need you at the dimming
Black is the color of my true loves hair His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon
[Instrumental]
The girl's a fool, she broke the rule, she hurt him hard This time he will break down She's lost his trust and so she must know all is lost The system
Is a Bhrid Og Ni Mhaille 'S tu d'fhag mo chroi craite 'S chuir tu arraingeacha An bhais frid cheartlar mo chroi Ta na ceadta fear i ngra Le d'eadan ciuin
Ye hills and dales and flowery vales That lie near the Moorlough Shore Ye winds that blow by Borden's grove Will I ever see you more? Where the primrose
Oh, Peggy Gordon, you are my darling Come, sit you down upon my knee And tell to me, the very reason Why I am slighted so by thee I'm so in love that
Last night as I lay dreaming Of pleasant days gone by My mind being bent on rambling To Ireland I did fly I stepped on board a vision And followed with
Where Lagan streams sing lullaby There blows a lily fair When twilight gleam is in her eyes The night is on her hair And like a love sick, lenanshee
: Oh, Peggy Gordon you are my darling Come sit you down upon my knee Come tell to me the very reason Why I am slighted so by thee I'm so in love I can
: Black is the color of my true love's hair. His lips are like some roses fair He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon
: Some say the heart is just like a wheel When you bend it you can't mend it And my love for you is like a sinking ship And my heart is on that ship
: Buachaill on Eirne me is bhreagfainn fein cailin deas og. Ni iarrfainn bo spre lei, ta me fein saibhir go leor Is liom Corcaigh da mheid e, dha thaobh
: Where Lagan streams sing lullabies, there blows a lily fair. The twilight gleam is in her eye, the night is on her hair. And like a lovesick lenashee
: Ye hills and dales and flowery vales That lie near the Moorlough Shore. Ye winds that blow by borden's grove. Will I ever hear you more Where the
: Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly I stepped on board a vision and I followed