How Are Things in Glocca Morra - Connie Francis

I hear a bird, a Londonderry bird

It well may be he’s bringing me a cheering word

I hear a breeze, a River Shannon breeze

It well may be it’s followed me across the seas

Then tell me please

How are things in Glocca Morra?

Is that little brook still leaping there?

Does it still run down to Donny cove

Through Killybegs, Kilkerry and Kildare?

How are things in Glocca Morra?

Is that willow tree still weeping there?

Does that laddie with the twinkling eye come whistling by?

And does she walk away

Sad and dreamy there, not to see me there?

So I ask each weeping willow

And each brook along the way

And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay

How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?

So I ask each weeping willow

And each brook along the way

And each lad that comes a-whistling tooralay

How are things in Glocca Morra this fine day?