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CGCG
KiDds wear white garters, and smell like their motGhers
whose husbandCs and fathers alike G
drink black beer in Dthe same public houses C
smellCing of smoke and Dstrong whiskey. G C G
MamDmies and daddies, skipping ropes, G
lCectures from priests, living in hGope
that they'Dve not mistaken the brand of their coaCts,
paid for Cby their spiritual Dteachings.G C G
A busDy year this, the streets runningG red,
hoCw many sent to their nuptial bed. G
And how many sent hDome to a winter of graves, C
and how many waitC in for the slDaughter. G C G
OGh, oh, the holy grDound,
céaCd mile failte, there's saints and Amthere's scholars to see. D
OGh, oh, the holy grDound,
fCaraway hills ain't as green as thAmey once used to be. D
EmAmEmAm
It's EaDster again, and we cannot forget G
our brothCers and sisters and all that was saiGd.
So practiDse your pipes, stand proud in the wet, C
for the eyes Cof the world are uDpon you. G C G
GodD in his mercy has given us men G
to leaCd us to peace, but they can't bring an enGd
to the profitsD that pay off the lease on the lCand,
we stillC send them over the wDater. G C G
SevDenteen years, Kelly is a maGn,
who stands Con the street with a gun in his hand. G
He's protectinDg the pipers that play in the band, C
while the enemy Cwaits with aDn army. G
OGh, oh, the holy grDound,
céaCd mile failte, there's saints and Amthere's scholars to see. D
EmOh, oh, the holy Dground,
fCaraway hills ain't as green as thAmey once used to be. D
EmAmEmAm
DiDa le hÉireann, suckle theG empire,
diCa le hÉireann, suffer thGe loss
of the green aDnd the blue while the media feeds C
on the blood anCd the pain and the hDatred. G C G
FaDther walks home on a colourless night,G
and the organisCation has blinded his sighGt,
His wifeD and his kids are sleeping tonighGt,
in the arms Cof sweet Jesus and Mary. D
EmOh, oh, the holy Dground,
céaCd mile failte, there's saints and Amthere's scholars to see. D
OGh, oh, the holy grDound,
fCaraway hills ain't as green as thAmey once used to be. D
EmOh, oh, the holy Dground,
céaCd mile failte, there's saints and Amthere's scholars to see. D
OGh, oh, the holy grDound,
fCaraway hills ain't as green as thAmey once used to be. D
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