Teksty: The Corrs. Home. Buachaill On Eirne.

:
Buachaill on Eirne me is bhreagfainn fein cailin deas og.
Ni iarrfainn bo spre lei, ta me fein saibhir go leor
Is liom Corcaigh da mheid e, dha thaobh an ghleanna, is Tir Eoghain,
Is mura n-athra' me beasai, is me an t-oidhre ar chontae Mhuigheo.

Buachailleacht bo, mo leo, nar chleacht mise riamh
ach ag imirt is ag ol le hogmhna deasa fa shliabh.
Ma chaill me mo stor ni moide gur chaill me mo chiall
Is ni mo liom do phog na an bhrog ata ar caitheamh le bliain.

Rachaidh me amarach a dheanamh leanna fan choill,
gan coite gan bad gan grainin brach' ar bith liom,
ach duilliuir na gcraobh mar eide leaba os mo cheann
is oro, a sheacht m'anam deag thu, is tu ag feachaint orm anall.

Translation:

I am a boy from Ireland and I'd coax a nice young girl,
I wouldn't ask for a dowry with her, I'm rich enough myself,
I own Cork, big as it is both sides of the glen and Tyrone,
And if I don't change my ways I'll be the heir for County Mayo.

Cow herding, my Leo, I did not never practice,
But playing and drinking with new young women by the mountain.
If I lost my wealth and I don't think I lost my sense,
And your kiss is no more to me than a show worn for a year.

My love and treasure, don't marry the old grey man,
But marry a young man, my Leo, even though he lives but a year,
Or you'll still be without a daughter or son above you,
Crying in the afternoon or in the morning hard