Back Down the Boreen

[intro]
(Instrumental — fiddle and whistle, soft and slow)

[verse]
The bus let me off where the road turns to stone,
Same crooked gatepost, but the paint's all gone,
Mrs. Daly's still hanging her wash on the line,
And the church bell strikes four like it's still her time.

[chorus]
I'm back down the boreen, boots in the clay,
Ten years of cities washed clean away,
The hills haven't asked me where I have been,
They just open their arms — I'm home again.

[verse]
The shop's got a sign saying "under new hands,"
But she still sells bread like my mother said,
And the old lads by the wall lift a pint and a grin,
"Didn't think we'd see you back here again."

[chorus]
I'm back down the boreen, boots in the clay,
Ten years of cities washed clean away,
The hills haven't asked me where I have been,
They just open their arms — I'm home again.

[bridge]
I buried my father out past the yew,
I left here too fast, and I stayed gone too long,
But the light in the valley's the same old gold,
And some roads won't let you forget the way home.

[chorus]
I'm back down the boreen, boots in the clay,
Ten years of cities washed clean away,
The hills haven't asked me where I have been,
They just open their arms — I'm home again.

[outro]
(Fiddle slows, whistle fades)
Home again... home again.