Tom: Ab major
Verse 1
F#
A#
I am a young fel
F#
low that's saisy and bold
In
Castletown,
A#
Connors, I'm very well known
In
Newcastle
A#
F#
West I spent many an oath
With
Kitty and
Judy and
Mary
F#
Me parents rebuked me
for being such a rake
And for spending me time
B
in such frolicsome ways
F#
I ne 'er could forget
the good nature of
Jane,
Yer a fog o' my jude, mar a thashe.
B
F#
My parents had reared me
to shake and to mow,
F#
To plough and to harrow,
A#
to reap and to sow.
F#
Me heart been too airy to drop it too low, I
set down on a high speculation.
B
F#
On paper and parchment
F#
A#
they taught me to write,
F#
And in
B
Euclid and grammar they opened my eyes.
F#
And in multiplication, in truth, I was bright,
F#
B
yet a foggum would shoot my repose.
F#
If ye chance for to go to the town of
Rathkeel, the girdles all around
F#
A#
me do flock on the square.
F#
Now some offer me apples, and others sweet cake, and they
F#
treats me unknowns to their parents.
There's one from
B
Askeaton, and one from the pike,
F#
and another from
A#
Ard, and my heart has beguiled.
B
F#
Though being from the mountains, her stockings are white,
and I'd love to be tightening
her girthers.
F#
No, to quarrel for riches I
ne 'er was inclined,
F#
For the greatest of misers
they must leave
A#
all behind.
But I'll purchase a cow that'll never run dry,
F#
And I'll milk her be twistin' or hardin'.
John
B
Damer of
Shrone had plenty of gold,
And
Lord
F#
Devonshire's treasures are twenty
B
times more.
B
But should they're laid on their backs amidst nettles and stones,
Gm
You'd have fogged them
Cm
with shrewd maratache.
The old cow could be milked without clover or grass,
F#
Cm
She'd be pampered on barley,
sweet corn, and the hops.
She'd be warm, she'd be stout,
F#
she'd be free in the paps,
And she'd milk without spence
and her halter.
And the man that would drink, he'd eat
B
cocky's coffee,
F#
And if anyone laughs,
A#
we'd have wigs in the green.
And the feeble old hag,
F#
she'd get supple and free,
Cm
And a foggum would shoot maritha's
shade.
F#
Now there's some say I'm foolish,
there's some say I'm wise,
Though being fond of the women, I think,
A#m
is no crime.
A#
F#
Sure, the son of
King
David, he had ten thousand wives,
And his wisdom was highly regarded.
B
I'll till a good garden and work at my ease,
F#
And each woman and child
A#
could partake of the same.
If there'd be war in the cabin themselves,
D#m
F#
they could blame you if
Fogham would shoot
Cm
Mor rith
Horshay.
But now for the future, I think I'll get wise and
I'll marry all those women who acted
B
so kind.
Aye, I'd marry them all on the morrow by -and
-by if the clergy'd agree to the bargain.
F#
B
And then when I'd be old and me soul be at rest,
F#
all those children and wives they
could keen at me wake.
Aye, they'd all gather
round, and they'd offer up prayers
To the
Lord for the soul of their father.
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