The Two Conneeleys

Hear the Atlantic seethe and swell

And hear the lonely chapel bell

God save their souls and mind them well

The two fishermen Conneeley

Yesterday at half past four

They pushed their currach from the shore

One took the net while one took the oar

The two fishermen Conneeleys

From Connor's fort and from Synge's chair

Towards Inis Mor and Inis Iarr

They scour the sea in silent prayer

As they go searching for their neighbours

Dia Diobh a beirt iascari brea

Nach mbeidh ar ais ar barr an tra

Go mbeidh sibh sona sasta ar neamh

Tomas agus Sean O'Conghaile

Draw the seaweed up the hill

And sow potatoes in the drill

Try to understand God's will

And the loss of the two Conneeleys