She goes down to meet her mummie returning from the fields
A wicker basket on her hip and a spaniel at her heels
And when she picks wild flowers she wonders should she go or stay
Now that Sligo fair is just a week away

Her hand is on the backseat of a traveller´s caravan
Headed for the city to a new life she can plan
No more days of waiting for her man to name the day
Now that Sligo fair is just a week away

High above the northern coast the seagulls circle high
To the west the setting sun spread loke gold across the sky
Oh homeward bound the freedom heard at the end of Mouthhall Bay
Now that Sligo fair is just a week away

She goes down to meet her mummie returning from the fields
A wicker basket on her hip and a spaniel at her heels
And when she picks wild flowers she wonders should she go or stay
Now that Sligo fair is just
Now that Sligo fair is just
Now that Sligo fair is just a week away