Doolin - Paddy Goes to Holyhead, Mark Patrick

Halfpints of Smithwick′s and boys from Dungannon

Stones from the Burren and wise men of Aran

Typical chimneys and chairs for the pipers

A glen of a broken heart

A red-haired tinker and a one-legged teacher

Singing songs of Pete John for a musical preacher

9 Germans beating their pour brandnew bodhráns

No chance for a Gaelic harp

The grasses still grow and the waters flow

And the winds of the west they do roar

The wild whippin′ rain and the ragin′ main

Are knockin′ on Éireann′s green shore

The cry of the seagulls rang over the cliffs

There′s magic and peace in the air

Take me away to Doolin Bay

To the pride of the sweet County Clare

Cheap Fish and Chips in the night near an old bridge

Reels on a friday and days without slip-jigs

There are 4 who share the room in the «Rainbow»

Time is not ticking away

Beautiful sights down the high Cliffs Of Moher

Green grow the rashes and black is the color

Small-talking barkeepers shouting out loud:

«Weather will improve day by day!»

Time is up at half past eleven

8 P. for the bus from hell to heaven

It′s 10 years ago I made up my way

So — please take me back to the bay

Where