"Bunclody Cuckoo" lyrics - THE IRISH ROVERS

On the cuckoo is a funny bird
And it sings as it flies
It brings us good tidings
It tells us no lies
It sucks the young birds' eggs
To make its voice clear
And it never cries cuckoo
Till the summer is near

Oh were I at the Moss House
Where to birds do increase
At the foot of Mount Leinster
Or some silent place
By the streams of Bunclody
Where all pleasures do meet
And all I would ask
Is one kiss from you sweet

If I were a clerk
And could write a fine hand
I would write my love a letter
So she'd understand
But I'm just a poor boy
Who's wounded in love
Once I lived in Bunclody
But now I must leave

If I was a singing bird
Then I could fly
To some shady arbour
Where my true love does lie
I'd sing her a sweet song
And maybe she'd cry
Then on her sweet bosom
Contented I'd die

My love doesn't like me
You must understand
Because she has riches
And I have no land
I am going to America
My fortune to try
But when I think on Bunclody
I am ready to die