Texty: The Corrs. Home. My Lagan Love.
Where Lagan streams sing lullaby
There blows a lily fair
When twilight gleam is in her eyes
The night is on her hair
And like a love sick, lenanshee
She hath my heart in thrall
No life have I, no liberty
With love is Lord of all
And sometimes when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep
I steal unto her shilling low
And through her dooreen peep
There on the cricket's singing stone
She stirs the bog wood fire
And hums in soft, sweet undertones
The song of heart's desire
Her welcome like her love for me
Is from her heart within
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint of sin
There blows a lily fair
When twilight gleam is in her eyes
The night is on her hair
And like a love sick, lenanshee
She hath my heart in thrall
No life have I, no liberty
With love is Lord of all
And sometimes when the beetles horn
Hath lulled the eve to sleep
I steal unto her shilling low
And through her dooreen peep
There on the cricket's singing stone
She stirs the bog wood fire
And hums in soft, sweet undertones
The song of heart's desire
Her welcome like her love for me
Is from her heart within
Her warm kiss is felicity
That knows no taint of sin
Corrs, The
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