I was dreaming of old Ireland and Killarney's lakes and dells.
I was dreaming of the shamrock and the dear old Shandon bells.
When my memory suggested in a vision bright and clear.
All the strange things that could happen if we had old Ireland here.
If the Blarney Stone stood out on Staten Island.
And Dublin Town to Brooklyn came to stay.
If the Shannon Waters joined the Hudson River.
And Killarney's lakes flowed into Rockaway.
If the Shandon bells rang out in old Manhattan.
And County Cork at New York did appear.
Erin's sons would never roam, all the boys would stay at home.
If we only had Old Ireland over here.
There are lots of lovely fairies dancing on the village green.
There are lots of lovely colleens the finest ever seen.
Where the boys are all called Paddy and the girls called Molly dear.
We would wrap the green flag round them if we had old Ireland here.
If the Blarney Stone stood out on Staten Island.
And Dublin Town to Brooklyn came to stay.
If the Shannon Waters joined the Hudson River.
And Killarney's lakes flowed into Rockaway.
If the Shandon bells rang out in old Manhattan.
And County Cork at New York did appear.
Erin's sons would never roam, all the boys would stay at home.
If we only had Old Ireland over here.
If we only had Old Ireland over here.