Josef Locke Galway Bay
If you ever go across the sea to Ireland
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You will sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh
And see the sun go down on Galway Bay
Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream
The women in the meadow making hay
Just to sit beside a turf fire in the cabin
And watch the barefoot gosoons at their play
For the breezes blowin' o'er the sea from Ireland
Are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the uplands diggin' praties
Speak a language that the strangers do not know
Yet the stangers came and tried to teach us their way
They scorned us just for bein' what we are
But they might as well go chasing after moon beams
Or light a penny candle from a star
And if there's is going to be a life hereafter
And somehow I am sure there's going to be
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea
