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i tabbed it 2 steps up:
C F C G7
Oh list' to the lay of a poor Irish harper,
Am F C F
And scorn not the strings in his old withered hands,
C F Am G7
But remember those fingers, they once could move sharper,
Am F C-Gsus4-C
To raise up the strains of his dear native land.
C F C G7
It was long before the shamrock, dear Isle's lovely emblem,
Am F C F
Was crushed in its beauty by the Saxon's lion paw,
C F Am G7
And all the pretty colleens around me would gather,
Am F C-Gsus4-C
Called me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.
C F C G7
How I love to muse on the days of my boyhood,
Am F C F
Though four score and three years have fled by since then.
C F Am G7
Still it gives sweet reflection, as every young joys should,
Am F C-Gsus4-C
For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men.
C F C G7
At a fair or a wake I would twist my shillelagh,
Am F C F
And trip through a dance with my brogues tied with straw.
C F Am G7
There all the pretty maidens around me would gather,
Am F C-Gsus4-C
Called me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.
C F C G7
In truth I have wandered this wide world over,
Am F C F
Yet Ireland's my home and a dwelling for me.
C F Am G7
And, oh, let the turf that my old bones shall cover
Am F C-Gsus4-C
Be cut from the land that is trod by the free.
C F C G7
And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms doth embrace me,
Am F C F
And lulls me to sleep with old 'Erin-go-Bragh',
C F Am G7
By the side of my Kathleen, my dear pride, oh, place me,
Am F C-Gsus4-C
Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.
