Dance of Years - Tír na nÓg

Dance all you cockle shells

Play all you distant bells

The baby sleeps, his hands are still

And now we all can dance until

We fall asleep or lose the will

Sing to the sleeping child

He’s yours but a little while

The young man waits, his hands are full

He seldom stops to see the sun go down

And fails to see when he’s in bloom

Dance all your years away

Life is a quiet slipping day

The old man sleeps, his hands are still

And now we all can dance until

We fall asleep or lose the will