A Stranger In Millstreet Today

The place I was born in and where I was raised In my rhymes of nostalgia I often have praised I left there when Clara wore his hat of snow And Finnow bank high through the old fields did flow A cold wind from the north through Duhallow did blow And the migrant redwings were chirping on bare tree and hedgerow But twenty two years gone since that does seem long ago And few back there now of me would even know In those old fields I did spend my best physical years But nostalgia no longer does move me to tears The young man of the sixties the years have left gray And the clock on my life it keeps ticking away Many of those I knew with the departed lay And I would be a stranger in Millstreet today.