| In Scartaglen there lived a lass
|
| And every Sunday after mass
|
| She would go and take a glass
|
| Before goin' home by Bearna
|
| We won’t go home along the road
|
| For fear that you might act the rogue
|
| Won’t go home along the road
|
| We’ll go home by Bearna
|
| We won’t go home across the fields
|
| The big thornins could stick in your heels
|
| We won’t go home across the fields
|
| We’ll go home by Bearna
|
| We won’t go home around the glen
|
| For fear your blood might rise again
|
| We won’t go home around the glen
|
| But we’ll go home by Bearna
|
| In Scartaglen there lived a lass
|
| And every Sunday after mass
|
| She would go and take a glass
|
| Before goin' home by Bearna
|
| We won’t go down the milk boreen
|
| The night is bright we might be seen
|
| Won’t go down the milk boreen
|
| But we’ll go home by Bearna |