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.