Intro: D-A7-D-A   G-G-A-D   

One [D]cold winter’s [A7]morning, just [D]as day was [A]dawning

I [G]sailed out of Galway to [D]cross the wild [A]sea

My [D]home left be[A7]hind me, no [D]friends to stand [A]by me

A[G]lone I was bound for A[A]meri[D]cay

In [G]New York I landed, flat [D]broke I was stranded

In search of employment I walked through the [A]town

The [D]was no job [A7]waiting so with[D]out hesi[A]tating

I [G]went to the station, my [A]name to put [D]down

Then [D]up spoke the [A7]captain, said [D]he ‘My fine [A]young man

Here’s [G]pen and here’s paper, you [D]know what to [A]do!’

Praying [D]nothing would [A7]harm me I [D]joined Lincoln’s [A]Army

To [G]fight for the stars, the Red, [A]White and the [D]Blue

Well they [G]gave me a cap and [D]boots of strong leather

They gave me a gun and a fine coat of [A]blue

And then in [D]marching for[A7]mation for [D]God and the [A]nation

We [G]left New York City our [A]duty to [D]do

Repeat Intro

Then [D]General [A7]Sherman, he [D]gave us a [A]sermon

On the [G]love of one’s country and the [D]rights of man[A]kind

As we [D]marched down through [A7]Georgia my [D]thoughts were on [A]Galway

And the [G]friends and relations I [A]left far be[D]hind

Johnny [G]Rebel was waiting, our[D]selves he was hating

And all that we stood for he hated that, [A]too

But he [D]was a fine [A7]fellow and [D]this I will [A]tell you

He [G]stood his ground bravely, no [A]more could he [D]do

For [D]four angry [A7]years through [D]blood, sweat and [A]tears

We [G]slaughtered each other never [D]counting the [A]cost

Through [D]hail and fine [A7]weather, [D]brother fought [A]brother

The com[G]passion was gone and all [A]reason was [D]lost

And [G]nobody questioned or [D]made a suggestion

As to why they all died they just could not ex[A]plain

Ah, but [D]if this war’s [A7]over be[D]fore we’re much [A]older

I [G]]promise it never will [A]happen a[D]gain

Repeat Intro

Now the [D]fighting has [A7]ended and [D]peace is de[A]scended

In this [G]war blackened country our [D]comrades lie [A]low

Lying [D]shoulder to [A7]shoulder, their [D]bones growing [A]colder

The [G]marching is over, there’s [A]nowhere to [D]go

And [G]so, Mister Lincoln, I [D]find myself thinking

In spite of what’s happened I know what we’ll [A]do

And [D] God if he’s [A7]willing there’ll [D]be no more [A]killing

And we’ll [G]raise up the stars, the Red, [A]White and the [D]Blue