| I was dreaming of old Ireland and Killarney’s lakes and fells,
|
| I was dreaming of the shamrock and the dear old Shandon bells,
|
| When my memory suggested in a vision bright and clear,
|
| All the strange things that would happen if we had old Ireland here.
|
| If the Blarney stone stood out on Sydney harbour,
|
| And Dublin town to Melbourne came to stay,
|
| If the Shannon River joined the Brisbane Waters,
|
| And Killarney’s lakes flowed into Botany Bay,
|
| If the Shandon bells rang out in old Freemantle,
|
| And County Cork in Adelaide did appear,
|
| Erin’s sons would never roam, all the boys would stay at home,
|
| If we only had old Ireland over here.
|
| There are lots of lovely fairies dancing on the village green,
|
| There are lots of lovely colleens, the finest ever seen,
|
| Where the boys are all called Paddy and the girls called Molly dear,
|
| Sure we’d wrap the green flag 'round them if we had old Ireland here.
|
| If the Shandon bells rang out in old Freemantle,
|
| And County Cork it Adelaide did appear,
|
| Erin’s sons would never roam, all the boys would stay at home,
|
| If we only had old Ireland over here;
|
| If we only had old Ireland over here. |