Kilkelly?

I have a little bit of Irish in my ancestry, (Murphy), and I'm interested in folk songs.

A song put together by Peter Jones and recorded in 1988 for Green Linnet Music by Mick Maloney, Robbie O'Connell & Jimmy Keane titled "Kilkelly" has brought tears to my eyes every time I've heard it.

I was wondering if this song is as popular in Ireland as it has become in the U.S., at least among Irish-American folks?

For those not familiar with the tune...

"Kilkelly" - by Maloney, O'Connell & Keane

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and sixty,
my dear and loving son John.
Your good friend schoolmaster Pat McNamara's,
so good as to write these words down.
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England,
the house is so empty and sad.
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected,
a third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Brigid and Patrick O'Donnell,
are goin' to be married in June.
Mother says not to work on the railroad,
and be sure to come on home soon.

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and seventy,
my dear and loving son John.
Hello to your Mrs and to your four children,
may they grow healthy and strong.
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble,
I suppose that he never will learn.
Because of the darkness there's no turf to speak of,
and now we have nothing to burn.
And Brigid is happy you named a child for her,
although she's got six of her own.
You say you've found work, but you don't say what kind,
or when you'll be comin' home.

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and eighty,
dear Michael and John, my sons.
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news,
that your dear old mother has gone.
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly,
your brothers and Brigid were there.
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly,
remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning,
with money he's sure to buy land.
For the crop has been poor and the people are selling,
at any price that they can.

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and ninety,
my dear and loving son John.
I suppose that I must be close on eighty,
it's thirty years since you've gone.
Because of all of the money you send me,
I'm still livin' out on my own.
Michael has built himself a fine house,
and Brigid's daughters have grown.
Thank you for sendin' your family picture,
they're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit,
what joy to see you again.

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and ninety two,
my dear brother John.
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner to tell you,
but father passed on.
He was living with Brigid, she says he was cheerful,
and healthy right down to the end.
And you should have seen him play with the grandchildren,
of Pat McNamara, your friend.
And we buried him alongside of mother,
down at the Kilkelly churchyard.
He was a strong and a feisty old man,
considering his life was so hard.
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you,
he called for you in the end.
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit,
we'd all love to see you again.