The crowded streets of Brooklyn
Seem a long way from my home
People rushing onwards
Going to and coming from
You bid them time of day 
And they look the other way
And so you end up just like them
And talk to no one

Where the grass is fresh and green
Where the air is pure and clean
Where the gentle rivers kiss the mountain streams
Although I've travelled far
The hills of south Armagh
Are the hills I'm roaming nightly in my dreams

The view from my apartment
Is a junkie's alley way
My children speak in accents
Not like mine
My old friend's working two jobs
We don't see him much these days
Oh, we'd be happy
If we only had the time

Where the grass is fresh and green
Where the air is pure and clean
Where the gentle rivers kiss the mountain streams
Although I've travelled far
The hills of south Armagh
Are the hills I'm roaming nightly in my dreams

I hear the hills are occupied by strangers now
And the work keeps getting scarcer every day
Oh, it's a hard life when you're forced from home
To leave the ones you love
Oh, it's a hard life when you're forced to live this way

Where the grass is fresh and green
Where the air is pure and clean
Where the gentle rivers kiss the mountain streams
Although I've travelled far
The hills of south Armagh
Are the hills I'm roaming nightly in my dreams

Where the grass is fresh and green
Where the air is pure and clean
Where the gentle rivers kiss the mountain streams
Although I've travelled far
The hills of south Armagh
Are the hills I'm roaming nightly in my dreams