There's a dear old spot in Limerick, It means the world to me,
'Twas there I spent some happy hours, when I was young and free.
But now I'm here in Broadway, longing for to go,
Back to dear old Mungret, where the Shannon waters flow.
They told me that in Broadway, wealth would come galore,
But all I found was loneliness, and heart aches by the score.
Oh how I miss the dear old friends, I knew so long ago,
Back in dear old Mungret, where the Shannon waters flow.
Those bygone days come back to me, wherever that I wean,
And the game of hurling that we played, in a field they called Mounteen,
So if the good Lord spares me, for another year or so,
I'll return to dear old Mungret, where the Shannon waters flow.
Then I'll settle down forever, in that dear old spot of mine,
Among the grand old neighbours, from the village and the line.
And when the Good Lord says the word, I'll harken to his call.
Then lay my bones beside the ruins, of the ancient abbey wall.
And that will surely guarantee, that I will never go,
Away from dear old Mungret, where the Shannon waters flow.