I was eighteen years old, when I went down to Dublin,
With a fistful of money and a cartload of dreams,
"Take your time," said me father, "Stop rushing like hell,
Remember all is not what it seems to be,
For there's fellas who'd cut you for the coat on your back,
Or the watch that you got from your mother,
So take care, me young buck-o and mind yourself well,
Will you give this wee note to me brother."

At the time Uncle Benjy was a policeman in Brooklyn,
Me father the youngest looked after the farm,
When a phone call from America said, "Send the lad over",
The old fella said, "Sure it wouldn't do any harm",
For I've spent my life working this dirty old ground,
For a few pints of porter and the smell of a pound,
"Sure maybe there's something you'll learn or you'll see,
And you can bring it back home, make it easy on me."

So I landed at Kennedy and a big yellow taxi,
Carried me and me bags through the streets and the rain,
Well me poor heart was thumping around with excitement,
I hardly even heard what the driver was saying,
We came in the Shore Parkway to the flatlands in Brooklyn,
To my uncle's apartment on the East 53rd,
I was feeling so happy, I was humming a song,
And I sang, "You're as free as a bird."

Well to shorten the story, what I found out that day,
Was that Benjy was shot down in an uptown foray,
And while I was flying my way to New York,
Poor Benjy was lying in a cold city morgue,
Well I phoned up the old fella, told him the news,
I could tell he could hardly stand up in his shoes,
And he wept as he told me, "Go ahead with the plan,
But not to forget, be a proud Irishman."

So I went up to Nelly's beside Fordham Road,
And I started to learn about lifting a load,
But the heaviest thing that I carried that year,
Was the bittersweet thoughts of my home town so dear,
I went home that December cause the old fella died,
Had to borrow the money from a fella on the side,
And all the bright flowers and brass couldn't hide,
The poor wasted face of me father.

I sold up the old farmyard for what it was worth,
Into my bag stuck a handful of earth,
Then I boarded a train and I caught me a plane,
And I found myself back in the US again,
It's been twenty-two years since I've set foot in Dublin,
Me kids know to use the correct knife and fork,
But I'll never forget the green grass and the rivers,
As I keep law and order on the streets of New York.

Na na na na na....,
Na na na na na.....