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As I walk the road from Killeshandra weary I sit down |
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For it's twelve long miles around the lake to get to |
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Cavan Town |
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Though Oughter and the road I go once seemed beyond |
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Compare |
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Now I curse the time it takes to reach my Cavan girl so |
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Fair |
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The autumn shades are on the leaves, the trees will |
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Soon be bare |
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Each red-coat leaf around me seems the colours of her |
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Hair |
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My gaze retreats defies my feet and once again I sigh |
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For the broken pool of sky reminds me, the colour of |
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At the Cavan cross each Sunday morning, there she can |
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Be found |
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And she seems to have the eye of every boy in Cavan |
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Town |
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If my luck will hold I'll have the golden summer of her |
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Smile |
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And to break the hearts of Cavan men she'll walk with |
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Me awhile |
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So next Sunday evening finds me homeward - Killeshandra |
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Bound - |
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To work the week till I return and court in Cavan Town |
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When asked if she would be my bride, at least she'd not |
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Say no |
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So next Sunday morning 'rouse myself and back to her |
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I'll go |
