| It’s all up now,
|
| The day is gone,
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| The evening sun’s shadows following me,
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| The weather’s warm,
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| It took so long
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| To be lonely now and all surrounded,
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| But Killkee hasn’t changed,
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| For the warm west winds blow over,
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| And maybe in the morning
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| I’ll go to Clifden fair again.
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| Oh, when morning’s home from England,
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| With her yellow patent shoes,
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| And some of the latest fashions,
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| Make me rather look amused.
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| And somewhere up in Galway,
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| Her parents wheel away,
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| So her father tell us,
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| At church the other day.
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| Oh, but Killkee hasn’t changed,
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| For the long lost years grow longer,
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| Maybe in the morning,
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| Tomorrow will bring a change.
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| Hold on, hold on,
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| What’ll I do,
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| I don’t want to end up in a battle stew,
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| So I packed my bags and buckled my shoes,
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| Yeah, that’s what I’ll do,
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| I’ll make some money, see the world,
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| A lot of new lessons have got to be learned,
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| And maybe I’ll be lucky with love, love, love…
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| It’s all up now,
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| The clearings show,
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| The rainbow’s got its colours all around me,
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| I’m on my way,
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| This brand new day,
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| To find the way that fortune cares to show me,
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| Oh, but Killkee will never change,
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| For the warm west winds blow over
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| And maybe, wishful longing,
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| I’ll come back to you again someday. |