Sweet memories bright, I hold tonight, of scenes I love so dear,
They help to brighten up my life, throughout each passing year.
When that road through life is hard, and daunting though it seems,
I will go once more, to that memory store, of the parish of my dreams.

To meet the neighbours at the cross, just like in days of yore,
Hear the dawn sweet chorus, from the woods of Cherry grove.
With childhood pals of long ago, to stroll the Glosha stream,
To fish for trout and minnows, in the parish of my dreams.

Liskennet Hill, I see it still, majestic towards the sky.
How oft 1 roamed its heather slopes, in days now long gone by.
Beneath the hill of Tullovin, Camogues own winding stream,
Where we'd sport and play, on a summer's day, in the parish of my dreams.

Around Belview's plain, to stroll again, Inchinclare as well,
Rostemple bridge, on summer's night, what stories it could tell.
Sweet Ballyculeen, where oft I've been, Ballintaw it seems,
Dunkip, Clarane, sweet Morenane, in the parish of my dreams.

I often strode down Dohoras road, Ballymacrory too,
Neath each grave stone are friends I've known, neighbours loyal and true.
To stroll once more, each dear old road, beneath a bright moonbeam.
My bones to lay, beneath the clay, in the parish of my dreams.