I close my eyes in pictures, The emerald of the sea. From the fishing boats at Dingle To the shores of Dona'dee. I miss the River Shannon and the folks at Skibereen The moorlands and the meadows And their forty shades of green. ~~~ But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town And most of all I miss her lips, As soft as eiderdown. Again I want to see and do The things I've done and seen Where the breeze as sweet as shalimar And their forty shades of green. ~~~ I wish that I could spend an hour At Dublin's churning surf. I'd love to watch the farmers Drain the bog and spade the turf. To see again the thatching Of the straw the women glean. I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see The forty shades of green. ~~~ But most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary town And most of all I miss her lips, As soft as eiderdown. Again I want to see and do The things I've done and seen Where the breeze as sweet as shalimar And there's forty shades of green.
