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I can hear the bells of Dublin in this lonely waiting room,
And the paperboys are singing in the rain;
Not too long before they take us to the airport and the noise,
To get on board the trans-Atlantic plane.
We got nothing left to stay for, we have no more left to say,
And there isn't any work for us to do;
So farewell, you boys and girls, another bloody flight of Earls,
Our best asset is our best export too.
It's not murder, fear or famine that makes us leave this time,
We're not going to join McAlpines Fusiliers;
We got brains and we got vision, we got education too,
But we just can't throw away those precious years.
So you walk the streets of London and the streets of Baltimore,
And we meet at night in several Boston bars;
We're the leaders of the future but we're far away from home,
And we think of you beneath the Irish stars.
As we look on Ellis Island and the lady in the bay,
And Manhattan turns to face another Sunday;
We just wonder what you're doing to bring us all back home,
As we look forward to another Monday.
For it's not the work that scares us, we don't mind an honest job,
And we know things will get better once again;
So a thousand times adieu, we've got Bono and U2,
All we're missing is the Guinness and the rain.
So switch off your new computers for the writing's on the wall,
We're leaving as our fathers did before;
Take a look at Dublin Airport and the boat that leaves North Wall,
There'll be no youth unemployment anymore.
'Cause we're over here in Queensland and in parts of New South Wales,
We're on the seas, the airways, and the trains;
And if we see better days, for those airplanes go both ways,
We'll all be coming back to you again.
'Cause we're over here in Queensland and in parts of New South Wales,
We're on the seas, the airways, and the trains;
And if we see better days, for those airplanes go both ways,
We'll all be coming back to you again.
