Lyrics:
Johnny LoganJohnny LoganLong Lie The RiversBased on the poem 'September 1913', by W.B. YeatsLong lie the rivers and green are the mountainsThe hopes and the dreams of a nation so smallLand of the scholars, the saints and tomorrowOh land of my father recallWas it for this that wild geese spreadThe grey wing on every tideFor this that all that blood was shedFor this Edward Fitzgerald diedAnd Robert Emmet and Wolfe ToneAll the delirium of the braveRomantic Ireland's dead and goneIt's with O'Leary in the graveLong lie the rivers and green are the mountainsThe hopes and the dreams of a nation so smallLand of the scholars, the saints and tomorrowOh land of my father recallYet should we turn the years againAnd call those exiles, as they wereIn all their loneliness and painYou'd cry, some woman's yellow hairHad maddened every mother's sonThey weighed so lightly what they gaveBut let them be, they're dead and goneThey're with O'Leary in the graveLong lie the rivers and green are the mountainsThe hopes and the dreams of a nation so smallLand of the scholars, the saints and tomorrowOh land of my father recallLong lie the rivers and green are the mountainsThe hopes and the dreams of a nation so smallLand of the scholars, the saints and tomorrowOh land of my father recall