They wear green

And they are beautiful

And their hearts are filled with love

They're as pure as any lily

And as gentle as the dove

They'll sing and cheer in harmony

Till their throats are cracked & sore

But there is no doubt

You'll hear them shout

When Jackie's heroes score

Too-ra-loo Too-ra-loo

And we'll follow Jack's heroes

Whatever they do

They'll come from Dublin

And from Cork, from dear old Donegal,

From London, Boston, & New York,

From anywhere at all,

From Parramatta to Fermoy,

Strabane to Skibereen

(And will) the shout go up

When the World Cup

Is raised on Stephens Green

(Yes it will)

And when we're there in Italy

On Sardinia's sunny shore

We'll be the boys you'll want to see

The boys you'll all adore

We'll play like perfect gentlemen

To win, to lose, to draw

For we're here to take the World Cup

To Paddy's shamrock shore