It is not the Homeland that I think of but mostly about the Homeplace br About the old Town I was born and raised near where mine did become a known face br The home of the snipe and the badger, the jackdaw the rook and gray crow br I will die a migrant from Duhallow where the mighty Blackwater flow br br Through old fields that will be forever by many a wood and hedgerow br It has babbled on towards the Atlantic for how long would anyone know br Through North Cork in flood it often rages in it's swirling flood waters of brown br On to the Atlantic near Youghal by many a village and town. br br A migrant from distant Duhallow is all that I ever can be br If I told you anything different the one I'd be fooling is me br My accent did come from Duhallow and the Duhallow brogue I retain br I am a migrant in this Country and as a migrant here I will remain br br Till my life will be claimed by the Reaper the Reaper who claims the lives of all br Eventually sooner or later to his sharp scythe everyone fall br But it is not the Homeland I think of but my Homeplace near the Town of Millstreet br And that lush and green and beautiful landscape where the Finnow and Blackwater meet.