Lyrics:

Farewell To The Groves Of Shillelagh And The Shamrock**lf**farewell To The Girls Of Old Ireland All ''round**lf**and May Their Hearts Be As Merry As Ever They Could Wish For**lf**as Far Away O''er The Ocean I''m Bound**lf****lf**my Father Is Old And My Mother''s Right Feeble**lf**to Leave Their Own Country, It Would Grieve Their Heart Sore**lf**oh, The Tears Down Their Cheeks, In Great Floods They Are Rolling**lf**to Think That I Must Die Upon Some Far And Foreign Shore**lf****lf**but What Matter To Me, Where My Bones They May Lie Buried**lf**if In Peace And Contentment I Can Spend My Life**lf**the Green Fields Of Amerikay, They Daily Are Calling**lf**it''s There I''ll Find An End To My Misery And Strife**lf****lf**so Pack Up Your Sea Stores Now, Consider It No Longer**lf**ten Dollars A Week Isn''t Very Bad Pay**lf**with No Taxes Or Tithe There To Devour Up Your Wages**lf**across On The Green Fields Of Amerikay**lf****lf**the Lint Dams Are Gone And The Looms Are Lying Idle**lf**gone Are The Winders Of Baskets And Creels**lf**and Away O''er The Ocean, Go Journeyman Cowboys**lf**and Fiddlers Who Play Out The Old Mountain Reels**lf****lf**ah, But I Mind The Time When Old Ireland Was Flourishing**lf**and Most Of Her Tradesmen Did Work For Good Pay**lf**ah, But Since Our Manufacturers Have Crossed The Atlantic**lf**well, It''s Now That I Must Follow Onto Amerikay**lf****lf**and Now To Conclude And To Finish My Ditty**lf**if E''er A Friendless Irishman Should Happen My Way**lf**with The Best In The House, I Will Greet Him And Welcome Him**lf**at Home On The Green Fields Of Amerikay**lf****lf**so Pack Up Your Sea Stores Now, Consider It No Longer**lf**ten Dollars A Week Isn''t Very Bad Pay**lf**with No Taxes Or Tithe There To Devour Up Your Wages**lf**across On The Green Fields Of Amerikay