A Morriña

I'm homesick
I want to go back
To my land
That saw me born.

I'm homesick
I want to go back
Waiter, another glass
Of Irish coffee.

Listen, boy,
And who are you?
Ask the old lady
To the kid who drinks.
Without thorns in the street
A cow's dung
The night has come
I'm not hungover
Not yet.

Neither moonshine, nor wine
Nor Albariño, nor tea
Nor cow in the cornfield,
Nor shoe on the foot
Just along the way
My feet burning
And drowning sorrows
With my Irish coffee.

I'm homesick
I want to go back
To my land
That saw me born.
I'm homesick
I want to go back
Waiter, another glass
Of Irish coffee.

Of Irish coffee, Irish coffee, Irish coffee
Of Irish coffee, Irish coffee, Irish coffee
Of Irish coffee, Irish coffee, Irish coffee

I'm not hungover
No, no.
I'm not hungover
Not yet.
I'm homesick
Yes sir.
I'm homesick
In my heart.