| lyric | Oh! my boat can safely [switfly] float in the teeth of wind and weather,
And outrace the fastest hooker between Galway and Kinsale;
When the black floor of the ocean and the white foam rush together.
High she rides, in her pride, lie^ke a seagull through the gale.
Chorus:
Oh, she’s neat! Oh, she’s sweet! she’s a beauty ev’ry line!
The Queen of Connemara is that bounding barque of mine.
When she’s loaded down with fish till the water lips the gunwhale,
Not a drop she’ll take on board her that would wash a fly away;
From the fleet she’ll slip out swiftly like a greyhound from her kennel,
And she’ll land her silver store the first at ould Kinvara quay.
There’s a light shines out afar, and it keeps me from dismaying
When the skies are ink above us, and the sea runs white with foam,
In a cot in Connemara there’s a wife and wee one praying
To the One who walked the waters once, to send us safely home |