[Intro] [Tin whistle melody over dark guitar and steady drum beat] [Verse 1 - rough male vocal] Grey is the night, grey is the day, grey thoughts drag my spirit down, Smoke from broken chimneys hangs above this bitter town. The wind cuts through my jacket, the mill shakes the hill, Born and raised in Boston, but a stranger here still. Empty eyes on every corner, dead dreams in every street, No coins inside my pockets, no mercy at my feet. But an ancient fire is burning deep inside my veins, Irish blood keeps calling through the cold Atlantic rain. Someone told me once of Ireland, where the wild green clover grows: "That's the land where you finally want to live!" [Chorus - gang vocals] IRELAND! IRELAND IN MY DREAMS! When the Boston streets are burning, she washes all my fears! IRELAND! IRELAND IN MY DREAMS! The green island of freedom, that's where my road appears! IRELAND! IRELAND! IRELAND! ...In my dreams... [Instrumental - tin whistle, mandolin] [Melodic Celtic folk melody] [Verse 2 - rough male vocal] Every morning hits the same, same headache, same old grief, Same tired faces staring out, still waiting for relief. It's the silent cry of harbor docks, the dry tears of the street, Where nobody asks your name, and there's no safe place to meet. I close my eyes and see the hills, I hear the forests sigh, Where time moves slow and easy underneath an open sky. Far away from dirty smoke, far from this choking mist, I still believe those simple words that always will exist: "That's the land where you finally want to live!" [Bridge - spoken-sung] Despair is rising higher, now I'm going to war with fate! I see their filthy little game, I feel the heavy weight. Cold hard cash decides the day, it rules the working night, But you can't buy my Irish soul, not with all your gold in sight! [Final Chorus - gang vocals] IRELAND! IRELAND IN MY DREAMS! When the Boston streets are burning, she washes all my fears! IRELAND! IRELAND IN MY DREAMS! The green island of freedom, that's where my road appears! IRELAND! IRELAND! IRELAND! ...In my dreams... [Outro - tin whistle and acoustic guitar] Boston born! Irish blood! Leaving behind these grey days and mud! I'M BUYING A ONE-WAY TICKET!
