Ive met some folks who say that Im a dreamer And Ive no doubt theres truth in what they say But sure a bodys bound to be a dreamer When all the things he loves are far away. And precious things are dreams onto an exile They take him oer the land across the sea Especially when it happens hes an exile From that dear lovely Isle of Innisfree. And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops Of this great city wondrous tho it be I scarcely feel its wonder or its laughter Im once again back home in Innisfree. I wander oer green hills thro dreamy valleys And find a peace no other land could know I hear the birds make music fit for angels And watch the rivers laughing as they flow. And then into a humble shack I wander My dear old home, and tenderly behold The folks I love around the turf fire gathered On bended knees their rosary is told. But dreams dont last Tho dreams are not forgotten And soon Im back to stern reality But tho they paved the footways here with gold dust I still would choose the Isle of Innisfree.
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 11:37:26 +0000
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