September 1913

D  Bm
D  Bm

[Verse 1]
D                           Bm
What need you being come to sense
D                      Bm
But fumble in a greasy till
D                            Bm
And add the halfpence to the pence
D                                Bm
And prayer to shivering prayer until

[Chorus 1]
G#dim                            
You've dried the marrow from the 
G
bone
                              D    
For men were born to pray and save,
          Bm
 pray and save
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D         
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in 
    Bm
the grave

[Verse 2]
D                            Bm
Yet they were of a different kind
D                           
Those names that stilled your 
           Bm
childish play
D                                 
They have gone about the world 
  Bm
like wind
D                           Bm
But little time had they to pray

Continúa después del anuncio
Eliminar anuncios
[Chorus 2]
G#dim                           G
For whom the hangman's rope was spun
And what, God help us, could they 
D                 Bm
save, could they save?
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D         
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in 
    Bm
the grave

[Verse 3]

D                            
Was it for this the wild geese 
  Bm
spread?
D                        Bm
The grey wing upon every tide
D                                
For this that all that blood was 
Bm
shed
D                   Bm
For this Fitzgerald died

[Chorus 3]
G#dim                      G
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone
                         D       
All that delirium of the brave of 
     Bm
the brave
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D         
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in 
    Bm
the grave

[Verse 4]
D                           Bm
Yet could we turn the years again
D                                
And we call those exiles as they 
Bm
were
D                           Bm
In all their loneliness and pain
D                               
You'd cry: "Some woman's yellow 
Bm
hair..."

[Chorus 4]
G#dim                        G
"Has maddened every mother's son"
They weighed so lightly what they 
D               Bm
gave, what they gave
G#dim                             
But let them be, they're dead and 
G
gone
                            D      
They're with O'Leary in the grave, 
       Bm
in the grave


G#dim                             
But let them be, they're dead and 
G
gone
                            D      
They're with O'Leary in the grave, 
       Bm
in the grave
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D         
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in 
    Bm
the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave