The Garden of Eden has vanished, they say,
But I know the lie of it still.
Just turn to the left at the Bridge of Finnea,
And stop when halfway to Cootehill.

'Tis there you will find it, I'll go, sure enough,
When fortune has come to my call,
For the grass it grows around Ballyjamesduff,
And the blue sky is over it all.

And tones that are tender, and tones that are gruff,
Are whispering over the sea:
'Come back Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.'

My mother once told me that when I was born,
The day that I first saw the light.
I looked down the street on the very first morn,
And gave a great crow of delight.

Now most new-born babies appear in a huff,
And start with a sorrowful squall.
But I know I was born in Ballyjamesduff
And that's why I smiled on them all!

The baby's a man now, he's toil-worn and tough,
Still, whispers come over the sea.
'Come back Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.'

The night that we danced by the light of the moon,
Wid Phil to the fore wid his flute.
When Phil threw his lip over "Come a-gin soon",
He'd dance the foot out o' yer boot!

The day that I took long Magee by the scruff,
For slanderin' Rosie Kitrain;
Then marchin' him straight out of Ballyjamesduff,
Assisted him into a drain.

Oh! sweet are me dreams, as the dudeen I puff,
Of whisperings over the sea.
'Come back Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.'

I've loved the young wee-men of every land,
That always come easy to me.
Just barrin' the bells of the Black-a-more brand
And chocolate shops of Feegee.

But that sort of love is a moon shinning stuff,
And never will addle me brain;
For bells will be ringin' in Ballyjamesduff
For me and me Rosie Kilrain.

And all through their glamour, their gas, and their gruff,
A whisper comes over the sea.
'Come back Paddy Reilly, to Ballyjamesduff,
Come home, Paddy Reilly, to me.'