Chords for Paddy's Lamentation
Tempo:
135.4 bpm
Chords used:
F
G
C#
E
D#
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
Oh, it's by the hush, me [F] boys, I'm sure that's to hold your noise,
And listen to poor [G]
Paddy's lamentation.
Oh, I was by hunger [C#] pressed, And [G] in poverty [E] distressed,
So I took a thought, [C#] I'd leave the Irish nation.
Well, [N] I sold me horse and [F] cow, Me little pigs [E] and sow,
Me little plot of land, [C] And I departed.
[C#] And me sweetheart, Bridmaggy, I'm [D#] afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted.
Oh, here's you boys, Now take my [E] advice,
To America I'll have [G#] you's not [F] be [C#] coming.
There is [F] nothing here but war, Where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Well, meself and a hundred more, To America sailed o'er,
Our fortunes to be made, We were [G] thinkin',
But when we got to Yankee land, They shoved a gun into our hands,
Sayin', Paddy, you must go and [F]
fight for Lincoln.
Aye, I thought myself in luck, To be fed [D#] on Indian buck,
And old Ireland the [F#] place that I delight in,
But with the [F] devil I do say, [F]
Curse America,
For I am sick and tired of this heart -fightin'.
Oh, here's you [Bm] boys, [N] Now take my advice,
To America I'll have you's not [C] be [F#m] coming.
[G] There is nothing here but war, [D#] Where the [N] murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
And listen to poor [G]
Paddy's lamentation.
Oh, I was by hunger [C#] pressed, And [G] in poverty [E] distressed,
So I took a thought, [C#] I'd leave the Irish nation.
Well, [N] I sold me horse and [F] cow, Me little pigs [E] and sow,
Me little plot of land, [C] And I departed.
[C#] And me sweetheart, Bridmaggy, I'm [D#] afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted.
Oh, here's you boys, Now take my [E] advice,
To America I'll have [G#] you's not [F] be [C#] coming.
There is [F] nothing here but war, Where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Well, meself and a hundred more, To America sailed o'er,
Our fortunes to be made, We were [G] thinkin',
But when we got to Yankee land, They shoved a gun into our hands,
Sayin', Paddy, you must go and [F]
fight for Lincoln.
Aye, I thought myself in luck, To be fed [D#] on Indian buck,
And old Ireland the [F#] place that I delight in,
But with the [F] devil I do say, [F]
Curse America,
For I am sick and tired of this heart -fightin'.
Oh, here's you [Bm] boys, [N] Now take my advice,
To America I'll have you's not [C] be [F#m] coming.
[G] There is nothing here but war, [D#] Where the [N] murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin.
Key:
F
G
C#
E
D#
F
G
C#
Oh, it's by the hush, me [F] boys, I'm sure that's to hold your noise,
And listen to poor [G] _
Paddy's _ _ _ _ lamentation.
_ Oh, I was by hunger [C#] pressed, And [G] in poverty [E] _ distressed,
So I took a thought, [C#] I'd leave the Irish nation. _ _ _
Well, [N] I sold me horse and [F] cow, Me little pigs [E] and sow,
Me little plot of land, [C] And I _ _ _ departed.
[C#] _ And me sweetheart, _ Bridmaggy, I'm [D#] afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted.
_ _ _ _ Oh, _ here's you boys, _ Now take my _ [E] advice,
To America I'll have [G#] you's not [F] be _ _ [C#] coming.
_ There is [F] nothing here but war, Where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin. _ _ _ _ _
Well, _ meself and a hundred more, To _ America sailed o'er,
Our fortunes to be made, We were [G] _ _ _ thinkin',
But when we got to Yankee land, They shoved a gun into our hands, _
Sayin', Paddy, you must go and [F]
fight for Lincoln.
_ _ _ Aye, I thought myself in luck, To be fed [D#] on Indian buck,
And old Ireland the [F#] place that I _ delight in,
But with the [F] devil I do say, _ _ [F]
Curse _ America,
_ For I am sick and tired of this heart _ _ -fightin'.
_ _ Oh, here's you [Bm] boys, _ [N] Now take my advice,
_ To America I'll have you's not [C] be _ _ [F#m] coming.
_ [G] There is nothing here but war, [D#] Where the [N] murderin' cannons _ roar, _
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
And listen to poor [G] _
Paddy's _ _ _ _ lamentation.
_ Oh, I was by hunger [C#] pressed, And [G] in poverty [E] _ distressed,
So I took a thought, [C#] I'd leave the Irish nation. _ _ _
Well, [N] I sold me horse and [F] cow, Me little pigs [E] and sow,
Me little plot of land, [C] And I _ _ _ departed.
[C#] _ And me sweetheart, _ Bridmaggy, I'm [D#] afraid I'll never see,
For I left her there that morning broken-hearted.
_ _ _ _ Oh, _ here's you boys, _ Now take my _ [E] advice,
To America I'll have [G#] you's not [F] be _ _ [C#] coming.
_ There is [F] nothing here but war, Where the murderin' cannons roar,
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin. _ _ _ _ _
Well, _ meself and a hundred more, To _ America sailed o'er,
Our fortunes to be made, We were [G] _ _ _ thinkin',
But when we got to Yankee land, They shoved a gun into our hands, _
Sayin', Paddy, you must go and [F]
fight for Lincoln.
_ _ _ Aye, I thought myself in luck, To be fed [D#] on Indian buck,
And old Ireland the [F#] place that I _ delight in,
But with the [F] devil I do say, _ _ [F]
Curse _ America,
_ For I am sick and tired of this heart _ _ -fightin'.
_ _ Oh, here's you [Bm] boys, _ [N] Now take my advice,
_ To America I'll have you's not [C] be _ _ [F#m] coming.
_ [G] There is nothing here but war, [D#] Where the [N] murderin' cannons _ roar, _
And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin. _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _