I close my eyes and picture

The emerald of the sea

From the fishing boats at Dingle

To the shores of Dunardee.



I miss the river Shannon

And the folks at Skibbereen

The moorlands and the meadows

With their forty shades of green.



But most of all I miss a girl

In Tipperary town

And most of all I miss her lips

Those soft as eiderdown.



Again I want 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 surf

I'd love to watch the farmers

Drain the bogs and spade the turf.



To see again the thatching

Of the straw the women glean

I'd walk from Cork to Larne to see

The forty shades of green.



But most of all I miss a girl

In Tipperary town

And most of all I miss her lips

So soft as eiderdown



Again I want 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.



Where the breeze is sweet as Shalimar

And there's forty shades of green...