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?