Will you come back home, where the young larks are
singin’?
The door is open wide, and the bells of Lynn are ringin’;
There’s a little lake I know,
And a boat you used to row
To the shore beyond that’s quiet—will you come back
home?

Will you come back, darlin’? Never heed the pain and
blightin’,
Never trouble that you’re wounded, that you bear the
scars of fightin’;
Here’s the luck o’ Heaven to you,
Here’s the hand of love will brew you
The cup of peace—ah, darlin’, will you come back
home?