My Wild Irish Rose - Luka Bloom

If you listen I’ll sing you a sweet little song

Of a flower that’s now drooped and dead

Yet dearer to me, yes than all of its mates

Though each holds aloft its proud head

Twas given to me by a girl that I know

Since we’ve met, faith I’ve known no repose

She is dearer by far than the world’s brightest star

And I call her my wild Irish Rose

My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows

You may search everywhere, but none can compare with

My wild Irish Rose

My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows

And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom

From my wild Irish Rose

They may sing of their roses, which by other names

Would smell just as sweetly, they say

But I know that my Rose would never consent

To have that sweet name taken away

Her glances are shy when e’er I pass by

The bower where my true love grows

And my one wish has been that some day I may win

The heart of my wild Irish Rose

My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows

You may search everywhere, but none can compare with

My wild Irish Rose

My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows

And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom

From my wild Irish Rose