The Man From Connemara

He spent his youth among the stones
The ocean thundered in his bones
His heart was tempered by its drone
The man from Connemara
He always stood out from the crowd
A noble horse as strong and proud
As every rocky field he’d ploughed
The man from Connemara

He left his home and family
To search for work across the sea
But he never lost his dignity
The man from Connemara
He carved his place in foreign lands
And forged a new life with his hands
Where others failed he made a stand
The man from Connemara

He always sang with power and grace
In the language of his native place
And the fire of passion in his face
The man from Connemara
His life was captured in his songs
His melodies were old and strong
They hit you hard and lingered long
The man from Connemara

I measg na gcloch i dtuis a shaoil
I nguagail mhara a fuair se gaol
Dilseacht croi a chuir thar mhaoil
Sa bhfear as Conamara

Never Learned to Dance – Green Linnet, GLCD 1124
Words and Music, Robbie O’Connell © 1989
Slievenamon Music (BMI)