We're going away from Ireland, we’re leaving in the shamrock shore.
Crossing the foam from our Irish home, that land we do adore.
Young hearts being sad, the weather being bad, which caused our crops to fail.
And to better our lot, we are leaving our cot in dear old Granuaile.

In foreign lands we have often heard of wealth in great galore,
The darkest hour before the dawn the brighter day’s in store.
We have willing hearts and will in heart, we’ll toil both night and day,
And we’ll not forget the friends we left in Ireland far away.

So we’re going away from Ireland after many years of time
And sure we shall return, to our own dear native isle.
Now Barney Moore will play his pipes, as he did in days of yore.
And we’ll dance a few good Irish sets, around our cabin floor.