Irish Song Lyrics 
from www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
The Green Fields of America 
Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock Farewell to the girls of old Ireland all round May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them When far away across the ocean I'm bound. 
Oh, my father is old and my mother quite feeble; To leave their own country it grieves their heart sore, Oh the tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling To think they must die upon some foreign shore. 
But what matter to me where my bones they be buried If in peace and contentment I can spend my life Oh the green fields of Canada they daily are blooming It's there I'll put an end to my miseries and strife. 
Then it's pack up your seastores and tarry no longer Ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages When you're on the green fields of Amerikay. 
The sheep run unsheared and the land's gone to rushes The handyman's gone and the winders of creels, Away across the ocean, good journeyman tailors And fiddlers that play out the old mountain reels 
Ah and I mind the time when old Ireland was flourishing, When lots of her tradesmen could work for good pay But since our manufacturies have crossed the Atlantic It's now we must follow to Amerikay. 
And it's now to conclude and to finish my ditty If ever friendless Irishman chances my way With the best in the house I will treat him, and welcome, At home on the green fields of Amerikay.