The Wind Around My Shawl

The Wind Around My Shawl 

By Paul Mc Cann

People have scattered .
Families torn .

Between home and where they where born .
Empty cottages greet each new morn .
Their thatch roofs are tattered and torn .
Hold my hand.
Donegal stay with me .
Lonely I am at 83  .
There's no one left but me Donegal .
The wild wind blows around my shawl .

You’re the wind  around my shawl

Donegal and all I hear is your sweet call

As the wind blows around my shawl .
Stay with me dear old Donegal .

You’re as old as the hills Donegal
and the tide may rise,
and the rain may fall ,
but you never change brave Donegal ,
although I've turned grey ,
I've seen it all .

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eIK9dDB6IRg&feature=youtu.be