In Scartaglen there lived a lass, And every Sunday after mass, She would go and take a glass Before going home by Barna. We won’t go home along the road For fear that you might act the rogue, Won’t go home along the road, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home along the shore For fear we hear the banshee roar, We won’t go home along the shore, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home around the glen For fear the Sídhe might rise again, Won’t go home around the glen, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go down the milk boreen, The night is bright, we might be seen, Won’t go down the milk boreen, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home across the bog For fear we might meet Kearney’s dog, Won’t go home across the bog, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home along the strand, We might disturb the fairy band, Won’t go home along the strand, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home across the fields, The big thorníns could stick our heels, Won’t go home across the fields, But we’ll go home by Barna. We won’t go home across the fields, The big thorníns could stick our heels, Won’t go home across the fields, But we’ll go home by Barna. In Scartaglen there lived a lass, And every Sunday after mass, She would go and take a glass Before going home by Barna.