"Tis Of My Rambles" lyrics
Well, since I was just a lad I've had the rovin' on me mind
At sixteen years I bid adieu and wandered far away
From Ballymena town I left ould Ireland far behind
But I knew that I'd return again some day
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
So I tramped the British isles then I sailed across the sea
I wondered what me fate would be in North Americay
We landed in Quebec where they fly the fleur-de-lis
And from there I rambled down through Boston way
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
Well, in Frisco next arrived where I fell in love one day
And I swore I'd take her home and show her round the Emerald Isle
But the children came along and the time it slipped away
Though I dreamt of dear ould Ireland all the while
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And now I'm old and grey and me rovin' days are done
Returning to ould Ireland's just a dream across the foam
But me thoughts are still me own and I know where I begun
And fondly do I think back on me home
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
At sixteen years I bid adieu and wandered far away
From Ballymena town I left ould Ireland far behind
But I knew that I'd return again some day
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
So I tramped the British isles then I sailed across the sea
I wondered what me fate would be in North Americay
We landed in Quebec where they fly the fleur-de-lis
And from there I rambled down through Boston way
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
Well, in Frisco next arrived where I fell in love one day
And I swore I'd take her home and show her round the Emerald Isle
But the children came along and the time it slipped away
Though I dreamt of dear ould Ireland all the while
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And now I'm old and grey and me rovin' days are done
Returning to ould Ireland's just a dream across the foam
But me thoughts are still me own and I know where I begun
And fondly do I think back on me home
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
And I wonder are the green fields still as green as they can be
And I wonder if the singing birds are singing in the trees
And is the air as sweet from the smell of burning peat
And will anyone remember me
Writer(s): George Millar
