The Pogues

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     D                       G            D
The last time I saw you was down at the Greeks
            D                    G            Bm
There was whiskey on Sunday and tears on our cheeks
     D                              G
You sang me a song as pure as the breeze
      D           G        A
on a road leading up Glenaveigh

I sat for a while at the cross at Finnoe
Where young lovers would meet when
the flowers were in bloom
Heard the men coming from the fair at Shinrone
Their hearts in Tipperary wherever they go

Chorus:
         D                  G     A
Take my hand, and dry your tears babe
         D                 G     A
Take my hand, forget your fears babe
            D                     G  A
There's no pain, there's no more sorrow
             D   G             A
They're all gone, gone in the years babe

I sat for a while by the gap in the wall
Found a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball
Heard the cards being dealt and the rosary called
And a fiddle playing Sean Dún na Gall

And then next time I see you, we'll down at
the Greeks
There'll be whiskey on Sunday and tears on
our cheeks
For it's stupid to laugh and it's useless to bawl
'Bout a rusty tin can and an old hurley ball

chorus

So I walked as day was dawning
Where small birds sang and leaves were falling
Where we once watched the rowboats landing
On the broad majestic Shannon