[D]The last time I saw you was[G] down at the [D]Greeks
There was whiskey on Sunday and [G]tears on our[D] cheeks
You sang me a song as pure as the [G]breeze
On the [D] road to [G]Glena[A]veigh
I [D]sat for a while at the [G]cross
at [D]Finnoe
Where young lovers would meet when the [G]flowers were in[D] bloom
Heard the men coming home from the
fair at Shin[G]rone
Their[D] hearts in Tippe[G]rary wher[A]ever they[D] go
[D]Take my hand, and dry your [G]tears[A] babe
Take my [D]hand, forget your [G]fears[A] babe
There's no [D]pain,
there's no more [G]sorr[A]ow
They're all [D]gone, gone in the [G]years [A]babe
I sat for a while by the gap in the wall
Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
Heard the cards being dealt,
and the rosary called
And a fiddle playing Sean Dun na nGall
And the next time I see you we'll be down at the Greeks
There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
For it's stupid to laugh and it's useless to bawl
About
a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
So I walked as day was dawning
Where small birds sang and leaves were falling
Where we once watched the row boats
landing
By the broad majestic Shannon
