How can the small flowers grow,
If the wild winds blow,
And the cold snow is all around?
Where will the frail birds fly,
If their homes on high,
Have been torn down to the ground?
Lift the wings,
That carry me away from here and,
Fill the sail,
That breaks the line to [C7]home.
But when I'm miles and [Bm]miles apart from you,
I'm beside you, when I think of you,
a Stóirín, a Grá.
How can a tɾee stand [Bm]tall,
If the ɾain won't fall,
To wash its branches down?
How can a heart survive,
Can it stay alive,
If its love's denied for [Dm7]long?
Lift the wings,
That carry me away from here and,
Fill the sail,
That breaks the line to [C7]home.
But when I'm miles and [Bm]miles apart from you,
I'm beside you, when I think of you,
a Stóirín,
And I'm with you [A7as I dream of you,
a Stóirín,
And a song [Am]will bring me near to [C7]you,
a Stóirín, a Grá.
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