Hardly anyone had the tele' It was a different kind of world Heaven was a game of football Before I ever kissed the girls We used to go out driving We'd travel near and far Nearly every Sunday in me Father's oul' ford car He'd be pointing out the landmarks Everywhere we'd go, through the Twistings, turning, winding roads Of Galway and Mayo Me mother in the front seat Children in the back We'd be imagining Indians in the Fields waiting to attack And we'd be asking Ââ are we nearly there? Ââ Wearing clothes that came In a parcel from America, The two of us the same He'd be pointing... There's a stillness in the summer Air, sheep dog lying in the sun Three young girls with butterfly nets Break into a run Now the time flies by like always I've got my own boy right now Like cowboys in the oul' corolla We go and drive around The land was let go lately But I take him out that way I show him where we cut the turf And where we saved the hay And I'll be pointing out The landmarks ...