Verse
N.C.
So pack up your sea-stores, consider no longer
For ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay
N.C.
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of Amerikay
[Verse 2]
D A G Bm
Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock
D Em G Bm
Farewell to the wee girls of Ireland all 'round
D A G Bm
May your hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them
D Em G Bm
When far, far away across the ocean I'm bound
[Verse 3]
G Em A Bm
Well, me father is old, and me mother is quite feeble
G Em A Bm A
To leave their own country, it grieves their heart sore__
G Em G Bm
Oh, the tears in great drops, down their cheeks they are rolling
G Em A Bm G A
To think they must die upon some foreign shore
[Verse 4]
D A G Bm
The sheep run unsheared, and the land's gone to rushes
D Em G Bm
The handyman's gone, and the winder of creels
D A G Bm
Away across the ocean go journeyman tailors
D Em G Bm
And fiddlers that played out the old mountain reels
[Verse 5]
D A G Bm
Ah, but I mind the day when old Ireland was flourishing
D Em G Bm
And when lots of hard tradesmen did work for good pay
D A G Bm
Ah, but since our manufacturies have crossed the Atlantic
D Em G Bm
Sure it's there we must follow to Amerikay
[Verse 6]
G Em A Bm
And it's now to conclude and to finish my story
G Em A Bm A
If ever friendless Irishmen chances my way__
G Em G Bm
With the best in the house, I will greet him and welcome
G Em A Bm
Far away on the green fields of Amerikay