The Grasss Is Always Greener

If you've time to drop in for a while
discover the beauty of the Emerald Isle .

There's donkeys to ride through green countryside ,
spray for your face that blows in with the tide .

Gifts to be bought and big fish never caught .
Wishes are granted with only a thought .

Jigs for the feet
as cows walk down the street,
sights for sore eyes that TV.can't beat.

There's castles as big as mountains and more ,
like gold dust swept up from the cottage floor .

Shamrocks of green upon hills to be sold ,
where roses are redder than blood I'm told .

The grass is always greener over there ,There's music and laughter
everywhere .

Whisky from Waterford bottled in Cork ,
Poteen for the Pontiacs in New York .

There's water from Wexford ,
porter from Down ,
Girls in Galway dancing reels ,
swinging round .

There's the harp or the pipes,
music so fine ,
drinking in the pubs after closing time .

You'll have the time of your life ,
come with me and see ,
Irelands a holiday,
we all agree .

By Paul McCann