Forty Shades Of Green

The emerald of the sea

From the fishing boats at Dingle

To the shores of Dundee

I miss he river Shannon

and the folks at Skipperdee

The moorlands and the meadows

With their forty shades of green.

But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town

And most of all I miss her lips,

So soft as eider-down.

Again I want to see and do

The thigns we've done and seen

Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar

And there's forty shades of green.

I wish that I could spend an hour

At Dublin's churning surf.

I'd love to watch the farmer

Drain the bog and split the turf.

To see again the thatching

Of the straw the woman glean

I'd walk from Corke to Larn to see

The forty shades of green.

But most of all I miss a girl in Tipererie town

And most of all I miss her lips,

So soft as eider-down.

Again I want to see and do

The thigns we've done and seen

Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar

And there's forty shades of green.

Where the breeze is sweet as Chalamar

And there's forty shades of green