I hear a bird, a Londonderry bird
It well may be he's bringing me a cheering word
I hear a breeze, a River Shannon breeze
It well may be it's followed me across the seas
Then tell me please

How are things in Glocca Morra?
Is that little brook still leaping there?
Does it still run down to Donny cove
Through Killybegs, Kilkerry and Kildare?

How are things in Glocca Morra?
Is that willow tree still weeping there?
Does that laddie with the twinkling eye come whistling by?
And does she walk away
Sad and dreamy there, not to see me there?

So I ask each weeping willow
And each brook along the way
And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay
How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?

So I ask each weeping willow
And each brook along the way
And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay
How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?