Fare[G]well to the groves of [C]shellelagh and [D]sham[Em]rock

Fare[G]well to the [D]wee girls of Old [Am]Ireland all [Em]round

May their [G]hearts be as merry as [C]ever I would [D]wish [Em]them

When [G]far, far a[D]way cross the [Am]ocean I'm [Em]bound

Oh my [G]father is [C]old and my [Am]mother’s quite [D]fee[Em]ble

And to [G]leave their own [C]country it [Am]grieves their hearts [Em]sore

Oh the [C]tears down their [D]cheeks in great [C]drops they are [D]rol[Em]ling

To [G]think they must [D]die u[Am]pon some foreign [Em]shore

 

But what [G]matters to me where my [C]bones may be [D]bu[Em]ried

If in [G]peace and in con[D]tentment I [Am]can spend my [Em]life

Oh the [G]green fields of Canada they [C]daily are [D]bloo[Em]ming

It's [G]there I'll put an [D]end to my [Am]miseries and [Em]strife.

Then it's [G]pack up your [C]seastores and [Am]tarry no [D]lon[Em]ger

Ten [G]dollars a [C]week isn't [Am]very bad [Em]pay;

With no [C]taxes or [D]tithes to [C]devour up your [D]wa[Em]ges

When [G]you are on the [D]green fields of [Am]Ameri[Em]cay

 

The [G]lint dams are dry and the [C]looms are all [D]bro[Em]ken,

The [G]coopers are [D]gone and the [Am]winders of [Em]creels,

A[G]way o'er the ocean go [C]journeymen [D]tai[Em]lors,

And [G]fiddlers who [D]flaked out the [Am]old mountain [Em]reels.

The [G]sheep run un[C]shorn and the [Am]land's gone to [D]ru[Em]shes

The [G]handyman's [C]gone and the [Am]winders of [Em]creals

A[C]way across the [D]ocean good [C]journeyman [D]tai[Em]lors

And [G]fiddlers that [D]play out the [Am]old mountain [Em]tunes.

 

Fare[G]well to the dances in [C]homes now de[D]ser[Em]ted,

When [G]tips struck the [D]lightening in [Am]splanks from the [Em]floor,

The [G]paving and crigging of [C]hobnails on [D]flag[Em]stones

The [G]tears of the [D]old folk and [Am]shouts of en[Em]core.

For the [G]landlords and [D]bailiffs in [Am]vile combi[D]na[Em]tion,

Have [G]forced us from [C]hearthstone and [Am]homestead a[Em]way

May the [C]crowbar bri[D]gade all be [C]doomed to dam[D]na[Em]tion

When [G]we are on the [D]green fields of [Am]Ameri[Em]cay.

 

The [G]timber grows thick on the [C]slopes of Co[D]lum[Em]bia

With [G]Douglas in gran[D]deur two [Am]hundred feet [Em]tall,

The [G]salmon and sturgeon dam [C]streamlet and [D]ri[Em]ver,

And the [G]high Rocky [D]Mountains look [Am]down on it [Em]all.

On the [G]prairie and [C]plain sure the [Am]wheat waves all [D]gol[Em]den

The [G]maple gives [C]sugar to [Am]sweeten your [Em]tay.

You [C]won't want for [D]corn cob way [C]out in Saskat[D]che[Em]wan

When [G]you are in the [D]green fields of [Am]Ameri[Em]cay.

 

And if [G]you grow weary of [C]pleasure and [D]plen[Em]ty

Of [G]fruit from the [D]orchard and [Am]fish from the [Em]foam,

There's [G]health and good hunting 'way [C]back in the [D]for[Em]ests

Where [G]herds of great [D]moose and wild [Am]buffalo [Em]roam.

And it's [G]now to con[C]clude and to [Am]finish my [D]sto[Em]ry

If [G]ever friendless [C]Irishmen [Am]chances my [Em]way

With the [C]best in the [D]house I will [C]treat him, and [D]wel[Em]come

At [G]home in the [D]green fields of [Am]Ameri[Em]kay.