There was a fearless Irishman, lived out near the sea
Outside Ballyferriter, a West Kerry man was he
Danny Sheehy was his name, wore a sailor cap and handsome coat
He was as a farmer, and a poet, and builder of fine boats
In the summers with three comrades, they rowed the Atlantic wide
On their El Camino voyage, like pilgrims of olden times
I raise my glass to the memory
Of Danny and his comrades and their brave days at sea
Oh, sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
The sea's white horses
Have taken our boat and oars
Keep his head above the wave lads
For a wee bit more
Sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
By day their oars became their mantra, at night they camped along the way
Shared music round the fire with folks from Wales and Brittany
Was on the feast of Colum Kiln, ninth of June, twenty seventeen
Danny read a prayer for sailors, that Mary keep them safe at sea
Was off the coast of Portugal, near where the Minho River ends
The sea turned fierce and angry, the jaws of hell took hold of them
Now I raise my glass to the memory
Of Danny and his comrades and their brave days at sea
A massive wave rose before them, then another hit them from behind
Tossed their boat up high above the sea, each man fighting for his life
Danny's comrades did their best, and as his life slowly drained away
His friend Breanndán sang 'The Praises of St Brigid's' hymn
As Danny sadly passed that day
Now let's raise a glass to the memory
Of Danny Sheehy and his comrades and their brave days at sea
Oh, sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
The sea's white horses
Have taken our boat and oars
Keep his head above the wave lads
For a wee bit more
Sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
Oh, sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
The sea's white horses
Have taken our boat and oars
Keep his head above the wave lads
For a wee bit more
Sing him to the shore lads
Sing him to the shore
Sing him to heaven's shore lads, sing him to the shore