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]
A E D F#m
Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock
A Bm D F#m
Farewell to the wee girls of Ireland all 'round
A E D F#m
May your hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them
A Bm D F#m
When far, far away across the ocean I'm bound
[Verse 3]
D Bm E F#m
Well, me father is old, and me mother is quite feeble
D Bm E F#m E
To leave their own country, it grieves their heart sore__
D Bm D F#m
Oh, the tears in great drops, down their cheeks they are rolling
D Bm E F#m D E
To think they must die upon some foreign shore
[Verse 4]
A E D F#m
The sheep run unsheared, and the land's gone to rushes
A Bm D F#m
The handyman's gone, and the winder of creels
A E D F#m
Away across the ocean go journeyman tailors
A Bm D F#m
And fiddlers that played out the old mountain reels
[Verse 5]
A E D F#m
Ah, but I mind the day when old Ireland was flourishing
A Bm D F#m
And when lots of hard tradesmen did work for good pay
A E D F#m
Ah, but since our manufacturies have crossed the Atlantic
A Bm D F#m
Sure it's there we must follow to Amerikay
[Verse 6]
D Bm E F#m
And it's now to conclude and to finish my story
D Bm E F#m E
If ever friendless Irishmen chances my way__
D Bm D F#m
With the best in the house, I will greet him and welcome
D Bm E F#m
Far away on the green fields of Amerikay