The bells of old St Davids I hear them ringing still
Above the brown potato fields and across Lleithy hill
And in the high green pasture fields that overlook the sea
The bells of old St Davids are ringing out to me.

The tatie hokers of the seventies where might they be today
From the old brown potato fields perhaps now far away
And they too have felt the ravages of time and the years have left them gray
And some of them have found their peace and peaceful where they lay.

The bells of old St Davids are ringing loud and clear
Across the miles of distance I fancy them I hear
The herring gulls are calling above the windswept shore
And in Wales in old St Davids life goes on as before

From picking the potato crop our backs did feel the strain
And for the heavy duty work not much financial gain
And for our working stint in Wales we did not have much to show
But we were young and stronger then some thirty years ago.

The bells of old St Davids are music in my ears
And fond memories of them pealing bring back the long lost years
Across the brown potato fields and the fields above the sea
I fancy I can hear them their peals are calling me.

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