Four who shared this room and we caught up in the CRAIC
Sleeping late on Sundays and we never got to Mass
It’s a long way from Clare to here
It’s a long way from Clare to here
It’s a long, long way
It gets further by the day
It’s a long, long way from Clare to here
When Friday comes around we’re only into fighting
My Ma would like a letter home but I’m too tired for writing
It almost breaks my heart when I think of my family
I told them I’d be coming home with my pockets full of green
The only time I feel alright is when I’m into drinking
It can sort of ease the pain of it and it levels out my thinking
I sometimes hear the fiddles play, maybe it’s just a notion
I dream I see white horses dance upon that other ocean
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