All the palm trees wave on high
All along that fertile shore
I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home?
And why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds
have departed from your shore
They've gone, they've gone
where the mighty cannons roar
Will they ever again return
Shall I ever see the shamrock
that breaks so fine and grand?
Or hear the curlew cryin' high
As I stand on this foreign shore
And think on what might be
Shall I evermore re turn again
Shall I ever see the sunbeams
on that precious harvest morn
Or hear the reapers singing
in a field of golden corn
There's an end to every woe
And a cure for every pain
Oh, the palm trees wave on high
All along that fertile shore
I never will see you more
Oh, why did I leave my home,
and why did I cross the sea?
And leave the small birds
singing around you, sweet Tralee
And leave the small birds singing