Oru, a girls home, I see you thirsty and without any of you ever díogadh,
But your gcraois lot of herring that most of bharrógaí ghoirte sighted,
Without water life lied to me the ways nicer to you than a hundred thousand,
Do any tears nicer than Galway me without my having drawn the filling.

Going through town Strabane me the man I was running, and the first dog around me,
Brigid intervention there, Una there is a meter, watt yellow Tadhg as m'ionsaí,
When the woman saw me that I was empty, she was close by my plucked,
My wig and my stick and my past and contributed sheanléine 'of my home I scoin.

And spleoid the money, the man cleasach is, regardless of who has to do it,
Prefers not to bhréagfadh scafaire the girls or ditch spoil man,
It takes the cailleachaí by the tow to dtige bocáil black color on the bright side,
But both absconding with me through the world, as-, I would give a view of the drink it.

The girls ORU, ORU is a chailleachaí, got the flood of Laurence.

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