Come to Tir na mBan, the fertile land,
Where women reign and rule the storm.
We'll feast and dance untill the morn'.
Here on the Isle of Women.

Grainne will welcome you with a gentle hand,
as fog rises from the ground.
You'll steal away into the night with hardly ever sound.
Here on the Isle of Women.

Etain shall teach you how to hunt,
beast and man alike.
Creeping and crawling through the brush untill the morning light.
Here on the Isle of Women.

Seven others may take you down,
to the valley between the mountains.
To emerse you in lucid pools running from silver fountains.
Here on the Isle of Women.

They'll treat you well,
and leave you dead.
Drowned and with a severed head.
Here on the Isle of Women.