I Can Only Be

I can only be a migrant from Duhallow Even as the crow fly from here far away Back there now wildflowers blooming in the old fields And hawthorns wear their white blossoms of the May. Back there nesting birds in leafy groves are singing And the robin he pipes on the alder tree And bluebells on the ditch of the old bohreen In flights of fancy such beauty I see. When people ask of me where do I come from I'm from Duhallow to them I do say A countryside that I lived many years in 'Twas there I first looked on the lamp of day. I can only be a migrant from Duhallow And that is all that I could only wish to be Back there today I might even seem a stranger Since old father time has left his mark on me.