And the brown flood bank high it keeps on roaring down
Through the flat and rushy fields west of Millstreet Town.
A gray day in December of storm and rain
And the water is gurgling in the flooded drain
And more rain in the forecast and the weather glass low
And old Caherbarnagh wears his hat of snow.
The redwings are back on their wintering ground
By March for their northern homes they will be bound
From the fields of Duhallow in April and May
These nomadic thrushes will be far away.
When the Finnow is bank high on a cold winter’s day
The cows in the farmyard are bellowing for hay
The temperature is a chilly four degrees
And the birds do not sing on naked wind blown trees.
When the Finnow is bank high in the fields of Millstreet
The dipper don’t sing where the old rivers meet
And the last flowers of Autumn have gone to decay
And the Spring from Duhallow seems so far away.