Fires are burning in parlors of men
The smoke from their chimneys is riding the wind
They sing many songs full of beauty and pain
I wish I were back in old Dublin again

Down at the local with all of my friends
Knocking back whiskeys with dear uncle Ted
His Maggie is dancing, three sheets to the wind
and the boys in the band are grinning

But the times went by in the blink of an eye
Old friends and old comrades they faded away
In sickness and hunger or some foreign war
They're gone but never forgotten

Voices are rising in some ragged hymn
From tall ships of fever and cold autumn winds
They ride the old rivers on the big ocean waves
And they wish they were back in old Dublin again

From Galway to Derry they strode down the pier
Away from their homeland and loved ones so dear
An ocean behind them, they stood in the line
Waiting for fortune and freedom

Father is reading the words from his book
The rosary clutched in an old crooked hand
And as I lie dying, I heard him exclaim
I wish I were back in old Dublin again