It was a misty night
As the ferry left Cherbourg
The next day the emerald isle.
My forebares left on an immigrant ship
More than 140 years ago
Driven out by desperation and hunger
And I’m on the car ferry from France
During the night the sky cleared and moon cast her silver light upon the sea
And at Rosslare the sun was shining it’s welcome.
The Irish on board were talking about how good it was to be back home
Its not my home but the blue blue sea and the emerald hills sure tug at the heart strings