They[C] say that the lakes of Kil[G]larney are fair,
No[Em] stream like the Liffy can[F] ever com[G]pare,
If it's[C] water you want you'll find[G] nothing more rare,
Than the[Em] stuff they make[F] down by the[G] oce[C]an.
The[C] sea oh the sea is the[F] gradh geal mo[C] croide,
[G]Long may it[Em] stay between[F] Englend and[G] me,
It's a[C] sure guaran[G]tee that some[C] hour we'el be free,
Thank[G] God we're sur[F]rounded by[G] wa[C]ter.
Tom Moore made his waters meet fame and renown,
A great lover of anything dressed in a crown,
In brandy the bandy old Saxon he'd drown,
Ant throw them all back in the ocean,
The Scots have their Whisky,the Welsh have their speech,
And their poets are paid about tenpence a week,
Provided no harsh words on England they speak,
Oh Lord what a price for devotion.
The Danes came to Ireland with nothing to do,
But dream of the plundered old Irish they slew,
'Yeh will in your Vikings said Brian Boru,
And threw them back in the ocean.
Two forign old monarchs in battle did join,
Each wanting their head on the back of a coin,
If the Irish had sence they'd drowned both in the Boyne,
And partition thrown into the ocean