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Skibbereen by Traditional Irish




                          Skibbereen 







Am G                      Am              G        F      Am
Oh father dear, well I've often heard you speak of Erin´s Isle

          C           Am      G          Am        C        Am
Her lofty scenes, her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild

            C    Am     G        Am    C            Am
They say it is a lovely land wherein a prince might d´well

   G           Am              G      F     Am
Oh why did you abondon it? The reason to me tell



Am G               Am               G   F      Am
Oh son, I loved my native land with energy and pride

                   C    Am     G         Am        C      Am
Till a blight came over all my crops, my sheep, my cattle died

            C     Am      G       Am        C      Am
My rent and taxes were to high, I could not them redeem

    G                Am              G        F      Am
And that's the cruel reason that I'd left old Skibbereen



Am     G           Am                G       F      Am
Oh and well do I remember, son, that bleak December day

                 C       Am       G       Am       C    Am
When the sheriff and the landlord came to drive us all away

            C       Am      G         Am     C       Am
They set my cottage roof on fire with cursed English spleen

    G              Am              G        F      Am
And that's another reason that I'd left old Skibbereen



Am      G               Am                 G      F     Am
Oh Your mother too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground

              C      Am  G           Am  C       Am
She'd fainted in her anguish saw the desolation 'round

          C        Am      G        Am      C        Am
She never rose but passed away from life to immortal dream

    G             Am                G        F      Am
And found a quiet grave, me boy, in dear old Skibbereen



Am G                     Am                     G      F      Am
Oh father dear, well the day might come when in answer to the call

           C         Am      G           Am    C       Am
Each Irish men would feeling strong will rally one and all

                C      Am       G      Am        C       Am
And I'll be the man to lead the band beneath the flag of green

    G                         Am              G         F      Am
And loud and high well you'll hear the cry, Revenge for Skibbereen!










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