Roger Whittaker - Forty shades of green



I close my eyes and picture the emerald of the sea

from the fishin boats at Dingle to the shores at Dunehea

I miss the River Shannon and the folks at Skibbereen

the moorlands and 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

I long again to see and do the things we´ve done and seen

where the breeze is sweet as shalimar and there´s Forty Shades of Green



I wish that I could spend an hour at Dublin´s churning suft

I long to watch the farmers drain the bogs and spade the turf

to see again the thatching of the straw the women clean

I´d walk from Cork to Larne to see those 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

I long again to see and do the things we´ve done and seen

where the breeze is sweet as shalimar and there´s Forty Shades of Green