I woke this morning to cuckoos callA rising sun like a burning ball
Winter spring summer fall
this is where were from.
Tractors home in distant fields
Winter feed from summer yields
the driver things in jigs and reels
this is where we’re from.
Head for school and it’s the same old faces
the same cars in the same places
Thank god for little graces
this is where we’re from
If you stroll to the village to sweet perfume
The village soaked in colour and bloom
Tom Redmond’s open not a bit too soon
this is where we’re from
CHORUS.
It’s not New York City or London town
no wonders of the world are you are to be found
But from Killena to Cahore
it’s all you could need and so much more
This is where we’re from.
Children swarm to football pitches
1000 slioters lost in ditches
these are all our natural riches
this is where were from
And come the weekend in clubs and bars
There’s fiddles banjos and guitars
all our local rock ‘n’ roll stars
this is where we’re from
The church bell rings twice a day
You can hear theat bell from miles away
One and all welcome welcome to pray
This is where were from
In the graveyard where our loved ones lye
resting peaceful beneath the sky
you’ll hear a whisper whisper if you pass by
This is where we’re from.
CHORUS
Between Killena, Cahore, The Rhoney and Shrule
There is a place that’s really cool
It’s Ballygarrett national School
This is where we’re from.
All the children here are the beating heart
of this place of which were all apart
So when you hear the cuckoo at the end of dark
remember this is where you’re from
CHORUS.