Green, green, forty shades of greenI close my eyes and picture the emerald of the seaFrom the fishing boats at Dangle to the shores of DunedinI miss the river Shannon and the boats at SkibbereeThe moorlands and the meadows with their forty shades of greenBut most of all I miss a girl in TipperaryTipperary, Tipperary, Tipperary, TipperaryAnd most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdownAgain I want to see and do the things we've done and seenWhere the breezes sweetest shall marAnd there's forty shades of greenI wish that I could spend an hour at Dublin's churning surfI'd love to watch the farmers drain the bulbs and spade the turfTo see the birds and the birds and the birds and the birds and the birdsTo see again the thatching of the straw, the women gleamI'd walk from court to lawn to see the forty shades of greenBut most of all I miss a girl in Tipperary townAnd most of all I miss her lips as soft as eiderdownAs soft as eiderdownAgain I want to see and do the things we've done and seenWhere the breezes sweetest shall marAnd there's forty shades of greenGreen, greenForty shades of green