G#dim : 4564xx
[Intro]
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[Verse 1]
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What need you being come to sense
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But fumble in a greasy till
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And add the halfpence to the pence
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And prayer to shivering prayer until
[Chorus 1]
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You've dried the marrow from the bone
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For men were born to pray and save, pray and save
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Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
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It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
[Verse 2]
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Yet they were of a different kind
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Those names that stilled your childish play
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They have gone about the world like wind
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But little time had they to pray
[Chorus 2]
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For whom the hangman's rope was spun
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And what, God help us, could they save, could they save?
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Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
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It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
[Verse 3]
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Was it for this the wild geese spread?
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The grey wing upon every tide
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For this that all that blood was shed
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For this Fitzgerald died
[Chorus 3]
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And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone
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All that delirium of the brave of the brave
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Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
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It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
[Verse 4]
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Yet could we turn the years again
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And we call those exiles as they were
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In all their loneliness and pain
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You'd cry: "Some woman's yellow hair..."
[Chorus 4]
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"Has maddened every mother's son"
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They weighed so lightly what they gave, what they gave
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But let them be, they're dead and gone
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They're with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
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But let them be, they're dead and gone
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They're with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
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Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
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It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
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In the grave, in the grave
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In the grave, in the grave
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In the grave, in the grave