Ireland

There is a land that I can go to
When I have time to rest.
All the people I love are there
And those who love me best.

Then I heard the wind
Calling from over the sea
Saying, ";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";
";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";

This land I go to when I'm tired
And need to see and walk in green.
The people who can laugh and drink
And see things others have not seen.

Then I heard the wind
Calling from over the sea,
Saying, ";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";
";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";

There is another side to this pure land,
A side of blood and guilt and pain
A side of enemy and friend
And sorrow at the hearth side stain.

Then I heard the wind
Crying from over the sea,
Saying, ";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";
";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";

There is a land that I can go to
When I have time to rest.
All the people I love are there
And those who love me best.

Then I heard the wind
Calling from over the sea,
Saying, ";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";
";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";

";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";
";Ireland, Ireland,
When will you be free ?";