Dominic Behan



They [G] say that the lakes of [D] Killarney are fair

That no stream like the Liffey can [D7] ever compare

If it´s [G] water you want you´ll find [D] nothing more rare

Than the [D7] stuff they make [A7] down by the [G] ocean



The [G] sea, oh the sea is the [D] gradh geal mo [G] croide

[D] Long may it stay between England and [D7] me

It´s a [G] sure guarantee that some [D] hour we´ll be free

Oh thank [D7] God we´re [A7] surrounded by [G] water


Tom Moore made his waters meet fame and renown

A great lover of anything dressed in a crown

In brandy the brandy old Saxon he´d drown

But throw ne'er a one into the ocean


The Scots have their whisky, the Welsh have their speech

And their poets are paid about tenpence a week

Provided no hard words on England they speak

Oh Lord! What a price for devotion


The Danes came to Ireland with nothing to do

But dream of the plundered old Irish they slew

´Yeh will in your Viking, said Brian Boru

And threw them back into the ocean!


Two foreign old monarchs in battle did join,

Each wanting their head on the back of a coin

If the Irish had sense they´d drowned both in the Boyne

And partition throw into the ocean!