I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer
And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say
But sure a body-y's bound to be a dreamer
When all the things he loves are far away.
And precious things are dreams unto an exile
They take him o'er a land across the sea-ea
Especially when it happens he's in exile
From that dear lovely Isle of Inishfree.
And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops
Of this great city, wondrous though it be
I scarcely feel it's wonders or it's laughter
I'm once again back home in Inishfree.
I wander o'er green hills, through dreamy valleys
And find a peace no other land could know-ow
I hear the birds make music fit for angels
And watch the rivers laughing as they flow.
But dreams don't last, though dreams are not forgotten
And soon I'm back to stern reality
But though they pave the footpaths here with gold dust
I still would choose my Isle of Inishfree