The wind makes music as it whistles
Through, the hand made winding walls around our
Home. The huddled hawthorn plays a lonesome
Tune, the skylark sings aloft and all alone.
The grasses in the meadow,
The starlings in the sky, the children chanting poems of long ago...
All part of nature's little symphony,
The reason the music's in our souls.
The cymbals of the crashing waves at
Sea, rolling towards a Connemara shore
The robin rhymes an early morn reprise,
Proclaiming love from those who've gone before.
The rhythm of the raindrops,
On the window of my room,
As the fiddles weave a tune so soft below...
All part of nature's little symphony,
The reason the music's in our souls.
No matter how far or near,
We will all hold them dear, the songs,
The tunes, the Celtic rhythm's call.
Whenever those clouds draw near,
That darkness we sometimes fear,
Just let the music reach into your soul.
All part of nature's little symphony
That powerful song unites us one and all.
Our parents toiled to nature's simple
Song, believing in the beauty of their dreams.
Friendships born to last a whole life long,
Bound in music running through like streams.
And when we travel lightly,
In search of dreams and more, our music is a parting gift to all.
All part of nature's little symphony,
The reason the music's in our souls.
