Upon the windswept cliffs we stand, Where ancient whispers kiss the land. The emerald fields stretch far and wide, In…
In fields where clover grows so green, The whispers of the past are seen, Through misty morns and twilight’s gleam,…
In fields of green where shamrocks grow, Beneath the skies where soft winds blow, The tales of old, the songs…
Beneath the skies of endless grey, Where ancient tales in whispers stay, The rolling hills, the emerald green, In every…