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The spirits are calling, it's time to come home,
Back to the valley of the winds,
Where we grew up on music, family and love,
And hearing our grandparents sing.
I remember a time not so long ago,
When the old folks would gather to play;
They'd pass on their knowledge through stories and song,
But it's not much like that these days.
And we're having a ceilidh this Saturday night,
In the house where our grandparents lived;
And just like the ole times, there'll be homebrew and wine,
We 'll play the tunes that all the old folks did.
There's a fiddle in the corner
And a squeezebox on the shelf,
And the spirit of the old folks at the door;
I can still see Johnny Archie,
With the fiddle on his chest,
And Uncle Frankie stepping on the floor.
The songs are no different,
And the tunes are still the same,
Just another generation here to play;
And I know one thing's for certain,
As the kitchen comes alive,
This one's gonna see the light of day.
