Pour a wee drink, sit down by the fire
Hear a fisherman’s tail, as the flames dance higher
An old photograph, comes alive on the wall
As he drifts back in time, to his wild Donegal
And they’re dancing on duck street
Waltzing into the mists of time
And they’re dancing on Duck Street
The fisherman’s lays down his nets for a while
As he plays his old squeeze box
The melody carries him off on a breeze
And then he went a roving
And he roamed the world over
And the winds of time will never tame
The ghosts I know them all by name
In a far distant land, of my hopes and desires
I tell the tails, around the campfires
That old photograph, that hangs on my wall
Takes me back to that Isle, in wild Donegal
And they’re dancing on Duck Street
(Dancing on Duck Street)
Waltzing into the mists of time
And they’re dancing on Duck Street
(Dancing on Duck Street)
The fisherman’s lays down his nets for a while
As he plays his old squeeze box
The melody carries him off on a breeze
And then he went a roving
And he roamed the world over
And the ghosts are calling out my name
Oer the shifting sands of time and change
Let’s go dancing on Duck Street
And we’ll go a roving
And the winds of time will never tame
The ghosts are calling out my name
On her wild and rocky shores I’ll walk alone
But I’ve been away but this still feels like home