The[D] sun was [G]sinking towords the [D]westward
The [D]fleet is leaving Dingle [Em]shore,,[A7]
I [D]watch the[G]
men row in their [D]curraghs
As they [G]mark the fishing [A]grounds near Scellig[D] Mor,,D7
All [G]through the night
men toil until the [D]daybreak
while at home their wives and sweethearts kneel and [Em]
pray,,A7]
That[D] God might[G] guard them and pro[D]tect them
and [G]send them safely [A]back to Dingle [D]Bay.
I see the green Isle of Valencia
I mind the caves around Lough Lein
The gannets swinging with abandon
As
they watch the silver store that comes their way
I also see a ship on the horizon
She is sailing to a country far away
on
board are exiles feeling lonely
As they wave a fond farewell to Dingle Bay
Now years have passed as I came homeward
And time has left me old and grey
I sit and muse about my childhood
And
the happy hours I spent near Dingle Bay
I see again the green isle of Valencia
And the Isle of Inishmore seems
far away
I am always dreaming of my homeland
And that little spot I left at Dingle Bay
