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Life It Goes On As Usual

Life it goes on as usual beyond that far southern shore
And the cars and trucks buzz to and fro between Millstreet and Rathmore
And the dipper he is singing in the silver tongued mountain rill
That babbles down the high fields by ancient Clara hill.

In old fields west of Millstreet Town the Finnow waters flow
And the young birds are chirping in groves and on hedgerow
And life goes on as usual and the Seasons come and go
To the Valleys by the mountains the home of the grey backed crow.

It has been more than thirty years since I was in my life's prime
and I like old friends far away now showing the wear of time
No different to a tin of fruit on us a use by date
And the clock on our lives ticking and time on none does wait.

Life it goes on as usual by the mountains far north of here
And the voice of the migrant cuckoo I fancy I do hear
And the swallows o'er the old fields are circling in the sky
And the wildering flowers are blooming in the lush fields of July.

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