I'Ll Return

I'll return when wildflowers do bloom by the rill And the woodcock is back on old Mushera hill And the robin is singing as the cool gray dawn Is breaking above the fields of Tooreenbawn. I've travelled through landscapes of gray, green and brown Far south of Duhallow and old Millstreet Town And the remote haunts of the black and gray crow Where the mighty Blackwater through North Cork does flow. Far north of the home of the wombat and roo And of the wooded hills of the white cockatoo The Araglen through Cullen babbles it's way To there I'll return in not too distant day. The boy of the fifties looks ageing and gray And time ticks along as some are known to say But I will return to the old fields again When the flowers bloom in Spring in the wind and the rain.