as we pull into the harbor in new york today,
i ask you how you're doing. you swear up and down you're ok.
but i can see what's gotten into your eyes.
it's written all over your face tonight.
we will never see ireland again.
we will never see ireland again.

as we hang up the map on the motel wall,
count up the places that we've left behind,
add the distances in between them all,
all the bridges that someone's burned down for us,
all the chances that we burned all by ourselves,
makes us wonder what we were thinking then.
'cause we will never see ireland again.
we will never see ireland again.
we will never see ireland again.