There's one fair county in Ireland With memories so glorious and grand Where nature has lavished its beauty In the orchards of Erin's green land I love it's cathederal city Once founded by Patrick so true And it bears in the heart of it's bosom The ashes of Brian Boru
Chorus: It's my own Irish home Far across the foam Although I've oft times left it In foreign lands to roam No matter where I wander Through cities near or far My heart is at home in old Ireland In the County of Armagh
I've traveled that part of the County Through Newtown, Forkhill, Crossmaglen Around the Gap of Mount Norris And home by Baclwater again Where the girls are so gay and so hearty None fairer you'll find near or far But where are the boys that can court them Like the boys from the County Armagh
Chorus
The noble and the brave have departed from our shore They've gone off to a foreign land where the wild canyons roar No more they'll see the shamrock, the plant so dear to me Or hear the small birds singing around sweet Tralee
Chorus
No more the sun will shnine on that blessed harvest morn Or hear our reaper singing in a golden field of corn There's a band for every woe and a cure for every pain But the happiness of my darling girl I never will see again
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Copy to Clipboard: There's one fair county in Ireland With memories so glorious and grand Where nature has lavished its beauty In the orchards of Erin's green land I love it's cathederal city Once founded by Patrick so true And it bears in the heart of it's bosom The ashes of Brian Boru
Chorus: It's my own Irish home Far across the foam Although I've oft times left it In foreign lands to roam No matter where I wander Through cities near or far My heart is at home in old Ireland In the County of Armagh
I've traveled that part of the County Through Newtown, Forkhill, Crossmaglen Around the Gap of Mount Norris And home by Baclwater again Where the girls are so gay and so hearty None fairer you'll find near or far But where are the boys that can court them Like the boys from the County Armagh
Chorus
The noble and the brave have departed from our shore They've gone off to a foreign land where the wild canyons roar No more they'll see the shamrock, the plant so dear to me Or hear the small birds singing around sweet Tralee
Chorus
No more the sun will shnine on that blessed harvest morn Or hear our reaper singing in a golden field of corn There's a band for every woe and a cure for every pain But the happiness of my darling girl I never will see again
Chorus
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