SáƒÂ­ar áƒâ€œn Ndaingean (west Of Dingle) Paroles

one from the grandmother whose fiddle she holds
one ring was from a faery rath in filigreed gold
one ring just for wishing her future her own

(chorus:)
sá­ar ón nDaingean is as west as you can go
to the west only ameriky and the silkies below
and your fiddle will not carry you over the deep
but sá­ar ón nDaingean is where she shall be

her dark eyes darted as her fingers flew fast
on the ebony fingerboard as if it could last
as if the cracked old varnish 'gainst the bone white cheek
could carry all her anguish her soul to keep

"you'll be back" he told her "you've come back before"
but this time she would not though the words they still tore
through the strings of her heart and the sound of the sea
"you love your damn fiddle more than you love me"
through the Sliabh Mis onto Abhainn an Scá¡il through An Daingean by dawn
on the cliffs of Dáºn Chaoin paused to play one last song

(repeat chorus)