In Fancy I See Clara

In fancy I see Clara in his rugged face of brown Overlooking the old green fields that border Millstreet Town And the little lark is carolling as upwards he does fly And though out of sight his tinkling notes sweet music in the sky 'Tis many thousands of miles from here to Hibernia's windswept shore And another two hours drive by car to the slopes of Claramore It may seem far in distance from here far north and far away But in my flights of fancy I am back home every day Brown flood waters are gurgling in the flooded roadside drain And old Finnow bank high flowing swollen by recent rain The rushy fields of Claraghatlea to me look much the same As they did look when I was young where each field has it's own name Fond memories don't die easily till death in us they do remain And in my flights of fancy I am back home again.