I hear a bird, a Londonderry bird It well may be he's bringing me a cheering word I hear a breeze, a River Shanon breeze It may well be it's followed me across the seas, then tell me please How are things in Glocca Morra? Is that little brook still leaping there? Does it still run down to Donny cove Through k**ybegs, Kilkerry and Kildare? How are things in Glocca Morra? Is that willow tree still weeping there? Does that laddie with the twinkling eye
Come whistling by? And does she walk away Sad and dreamy there, not to see me there? So I ask each weeping willow And each brook along the way And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day? So I ask each weeping willow And each brook along the way And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?