Words and Music: Dick Farrelly    ©Peter Maurice Music / EMI Music       I've met some folks who say that I'm a dreamer    And I've no doubt there's truth in what they say    But sure a body's bound to be a dreamer    When all the things he loves are far away.    And precious things are dreams onto an exile    They take him o'er the land across the sea    Especially when it happens he's an exile    From that dear lovely Isle of Innisfree.       And when the moonlight peeps across the rooftops   Of this great city wondrous tho' it be   I scarcely feel its wonder or its laughter    I'm once again back home in Innisfree.       I wander o'er green hills thro' dreamy valleys   And find a peace no other land could know   I hear the birds make music fit for angels    And watch the rivers laughing as they flow.    And then into a humble shack I wander    My dear old home, and tenderly behold    The folks I love around the turf fire gathered   On bended knees their rosary is told.       But dreams don't last    Tho' dreams are not forgotten    And soon I'm back to stern reality    But tho' they paved the footways here with gold dust   I still would choose the Isle of Innisfree.   For other information: seoltarecords@ireland.com