She says that she's simple, though I know she's complex.
Always reaching, always seeking the Ilse of the Blessed.
Determined to live life with only the best,
She's my friend, Erin O'Eire.
She shines in the morning with with hardly a care,
And values her freedom so seekers beware.
She'll disarm you with a smile that will cause you to stare.
She's my friend, Erin O'Eire.
The lass is a tempest that weakens my resolve,
And makes my mind long to become more involved.
Her heart is a mystery that yearns to be solved.
She's my friend, Erin O'Eire.
Her eyes sparkle softly with deep hidden pain,
For a love that she harbored,though it ended in vain.
I feel for her loss, though it drives me insane.
She's my friend, Erin O'Eire.
A memory to hold, like the smell of the sea,
The thought of her smiling brings my youth back to me.
Though she's not Irish, in my heart she will be,
My friend, Erin O'Eire.
