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If I could give a gift to thee, to hold to your heart dear.
I'd give the gift of Irish Hills, so you could wander free.
And when you'd walk them all, I think there's something more I'd bring.
The gift of Irish laughter now, so you could learn to sing.
It's a rare old Christmas, with rare old times, with good warm feelings when all are living right.
And every foolish notion, leads to feelings that might start,
To make the prayers that children pray, come true with all our hearts.
If you could give a gift to me, that I could hold so dear.
I'd love to see you smile upon my life without a tear,
And when you've smiled it all away, there's something more you'd bring.
The gift of gifts remembering that you learned how to sing.
It's a rare old Christmas, with rare old times, with good warm feelings when all are living right.
And every foolish notion, leads to feelings that might start,
To make the prayers that children pray, come true with all our hearts.