Tom: A major•
Verse 1
D
I am a true -born Irishman,
a traveller am I
My home's the road,
no fixed abode,
I'll travel till I die
For a few men give me camping space,
and fewer call me friend.
The hard road for the travelling man,
E
D
I'll travel till the end.
Hunger, hardship and poverty
are the travellers we reload.
Hunger, hardship and poverty
E
D
and the blue tar road.
To Dublin City Fair
Am
D
we came in the year of 59
And we camped in Lansdowne's
green valleys
With others of our kind
But Dublin Corporation,
Am
D
good Christians to a man,
They tore down our tents,
uprooted us and tore
out our caravans.
Hunger, hardship, and poverty
Are the travellers we reload
E
D
Hunger, hardship, and poverty
E
D
And the blue tar road
And here in Cherry Orchard,
where no cherry blossoms bloom,
We're forgotten and unwanted,
in dirt and muck and gloom.
But the man above,
who died for love
and nailed on to a tree,
E
D
Sure, wasn't he a traveller
the same as you and me?
And someday in his own good time
He will ease a traveller's load
D
E
D
D
D
An d we'll bid farewell to poverty
D
E
C#m
D
And the blue tar road you
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AfinadorE A D G B E
AcordesD E Am C#m
D
E
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C#m
Capotraste: 2
Transpor: 0
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