Boots on the ground, fiddle in hand
Old rock road, stone of sand
Spring through winter across this land
Gale and the rain and the sun

Magic of tin, curve of a rim
You made when you last dropped in
Now leaves are gone and robins sing
A winter freeze upon us

Frost it lies on the top of the hill
Down the old back lane on the window sill
Warmed by the fire from the winter chill
Good time for a fiddle and bow

Stories told, sunset sky
Lonesome reel, passers by
Tea in a mug and a star on high
And wood, and bow, and rosin

Friendly gathering after dark
"Paddy’s Rambles in the Park"
Spitting reel fire’s spark
Those ancient spirits rising

Frost it lies on the top of the hill
Down the old back lane on the window sill
Warmed by the fire from the winter chill
Good time for a fiddle and bow
Every fiddle in Donegal
Plays such magic when you call
“Policeman’s Holiday” and all
Beneath your fingers nightly

Join us here, welcome in
Daylight fades, clock chimes ring
Heart of our home with the tunes you bring
Your fiddle and bow to cheer us

Frost it lies on the top of the hill
Down the old back lane on the window sill
Warmed by the fire from the winter chill
Good time for a fiddle and bow

Frost it lies on the top of the hill
Down the old back lane on the window sill
Warmed by the fire from the winter chill
Good time for a fiddle and bow

Frost it lies on top of the hill
Frost it lies on top of the hill
Frost it lies on top of the hill
Frost it lies on top of the hill
Frost it lies on top of the hill