Fields of Glory - The High Kings

I was born in a country where people admire

Their great sporting heroes and how they aspire

To stand upon mountains and always be winners

And never give less than their all

I once met an old man who told me great stories

Of legends of old who played hard for the glory

Of lifting the cup in that moment of triumph

His memory's kept me enthralled

On the fields the fields of glory

On the fields where boys become men

On the fields the fields of glory

May the best team win win in the end

Supporting their team with a true sense of place

Are the handfuls of people with pride on their faces

They come from the townlands the parish the village

Their banners they proudly unfurl

An anthem of hope is the song they are singing

There's a whistle it sounds and the game it begins

And the roar of the crowd echoes up to the heavens

It sends out a clarion call

On the fields the fields of glory

On the fields where boys become men

On the fields the fields of glory

May the best team win win in the end

I'm dreaming of Ireland in fine summer weather

A crowd of young lads playing football together

All hoping that someday the call they will answer

To play for the place they were born

On the fields the fields of glory

On the fields where boys become men

On the fields the fields of glory

May the best team win win in the end

I'm dreaming of Ireland in fine summer weather

A crowd of young lads playing football together

The roar of the crowd echoes up to the heavens

It sends out a clarion call