There's music in around the ports.
There's music in the bays.
There's music in the droaks and coves
With a Celtic lilt that plays.
If you ever get a chance me boys
To hear a song or two.
We'll sit around the kitchen
And have a have a drink with you.

Well, Frank played the fiddle
H e kept rosin on the bow.
There's whiskey on the table
A nd plenty more to go.
A whistle and guitar to help make up the sound.
Accordion in the back
And the folks all gathered around.

And if there was a man that died
With a wake just down the road.
Or a wedding on a Wednesday
With a party all set to go.
No matter what occasion
There's music in the air.
No matter the occasion
You're bound to find it here.

If a journey take you far away
F rom the place which owned your soul
From the fields of green and the mending nets
The fences made of stone.
There will come a day of your return
W hen you cross the rocky beach.
Putting rhythm back in your soul
And the song back in your speech.

If you're ever on this rocky beach
Watching men bait their trawl,
You will hear the sound of the music
In the cliffs so ever tall.
You will always know your homeland;
I t's where you feel the best.
And when the call comes from up above
I t's home your going to rest.