The Song Of The Driver

(after Lorca)

Over ice, down hills,
Blue car, pale moon,
Love is calling me
To a fireside in Derry.

(Chorus)

Oh Derry, Derry, Derry,
My own lovely Derry
The capital of the north
West of Erin.

Sure the journey is long
But the car it is sound
As I drive over hills
And through valleys.

(Chorus)

The journey I know well
For I've covered it before
On my way to the
Oak Grove of Erin.

(Chorus)

poem by Liam ó Comáin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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