I close my eyes and picture
From the fishing boats that tingle
and the folks at Skimmering
The moorlands and the meadows
with their forty shades of green
But most of all, I miss her girl,
Most of all, I miss her lips,
I soft -designed her down
Again I wanna see and do,
the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as shallow mud
If I could only spend one hour
Down by Dublin's churnin' surf
For I long to see the farmers
Drain the bogs and spade the turf
To watch again the thatchin'
With a stroll the women gleam
Sure, I'd walk from Cork to Laundersea
in those forty shades of green
But most of all I miss a girl
Most of all I miss her lips
Again I want to see and do
the things we've done and seen
Where the breeze is sweet as Chalimond
and there's forty shades of green