Tom: G major
Verse 1
G
C
Am
D
G
D
G
My feet
G
Broadway
D
This blessed harvest morn
Am
G
But oh, the ache that's in them
D
G
For the spot where I was born
D
G
My weary hands are blistered
D
from work in cold and heat
Am
G
But, to swing aside
Am
C
G
Had I a chance to journey
C
D
back for all the kings of old
C
Am
D
Hawthorn tree and the old
G
C
Am
D
G
bog road
D
G
D
My mother died last
D
Ireland's fields were green
Am
G
The neighbours said her wicking
D
G
Was the finest ever seen
D
G
D
G
There were snowdrops and primroses
And
Am
G
Fern's church was crowded
D
G
When the funeral mass was read
Am
C
But here was I on
G
C
D
Broadway building bricks by load
G
C
Am
And they carried out her coffin down
D
G
C
Am
D
the old hog road
G
Eb
Ab
Eb
Ab
Eb
A life's a weary puzzle, hath finding out by man,
Bbm
Ab
Eb
Ab
I'll take the day for what it's worth, and I'll do the best I can.
Eb
Ab
Since no one cares a rush for me,
Eb
what need is there to moan?
Bbm
Ab
I'll go my way and draw my pay,
Eb
and smoke my pipe alone
Ab
C#
Ab
Each human heart must bear its grief,
C#
Eb
though bitter be the load
So
C#
Bbm
Eb
Ireland an d the old
Thog
Ab
Road
So
God be with you
C#
Bbm
Eb
Ireland an d the old
Thog
Ab
Road
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