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'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 'em o'er the lands across the sea Especially when it happens he's an exile From that dear and lovely Isle of Inisfree. And when moonlight peeps across the rooftops Of this great city, wonderous though it be I scarcely feel it's wonder or it's laughter I'm again back home in Inisfree. ~~~ I wander o'er green hills, through dreamy valleys And find a peace no other land could know I hear the birds make music fit for angels And watch the rivers laughing as they flow. And then into a humble shack I wander My dear old home I tenderly behold The folks I love around the turf fire gathered On bended knee, the Rosary is told. But dreams don't last though dreams are not forgotten And soon I'm back to stern reality. For though they pave the footways here with gold dust I still would chose my Isle of Inisfree.