Greenfields Of Amerikay

This version of Greenfields evolved from my early hearing of the recording by the innovative Irish hand, Planxty, my study of the Paddy Tunney version, and 15 years of singing the ballad in many moods. Like all great songs, this one takes on a life of its own in every singer's mouth. I found the first line of this version in the New York City Public Library.

For my father, who emigrated from Canada

Farewell to the groves of the sweet county Antrim

Farewell to the people of old Ireland all round

May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them

When far away on the ocean I'm bound

Oh my mother is old and my father is failing

To leave their own country it grieves their hearts so

Ah the tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling

To think they must die, upon a foreign shore

But what matter to me where my bones may be buried

If in peace and contentment I can spend my life

Oh the green fields of Canada, they daily are looming

It's there I'll put an end to my misery and strife

The sheep run unsheared, and the land's gone to rushes

The handyman's gone and the winders of creels

Away 'cross the ocean, good journeymen tailors

And fiddlers that flail out the old mountain reels

But I mind the time when old Ireland was flourishing

When lots of her tradesmen could work for good pay

But soon so many factories had crossed the Atlantic

It's now we must follow to Arnerikay