The Irish Rovers

The Irish Rovers

Star Of The County Down
nível iniciante
Verse: 1 
        Em                   G      D         Em          D 
Near Banbridge Town in the County Down, One morning last July 
         Em                    G     D               Em                 D Em 
From a bóithrín green came a sweet cailín, And she smiled as she passed me by 
      G                       D                     Em                     D 
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet, To the sheen of her nut brown hair 
         Em                G         D            Em          D     Em 
Such a winsome elf, I’m ashamed of myself For to see I was staring there 



[Refrão]
G D Em D From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin Town Em G D Em D Em No maid I've seen like the fair cailín that I met in the County Down Verse: 2 Em G D Em D As she onward sped, sure I scratched my head, And I looked with a feelin' rare Em G D Em D Em And I say's, say's I, to a passer-by "Whose the maid with the nut brown hair"? G D Em D Well, he looked at me, and he said to me, "That's the gem of Ireland's crown Em G D Em D Em Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann she's the star of the County Down"
[Refrão]
G D Em D From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin Town Em G D Em D Em No maid I've seen like the fair cailín that I met in the County Down Verse: 3 Em G D Em D She'd soft brown eyes with a look so shy and a smile like a rose in June Em G D Em D Em And she sang so sweet what a lovely treat as she lilted an Irish tune G D Em D At the Lammas dance I was in a trance as she whirled with the lads of the town Em G D Em D Em And it broke my heart just to be apart from the star of the County Down
[Refrão]
G D Em D From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay and from Galway to Dublin Town Em G D Em D Em No maid I've seen like the fair cailín that I met in the County Down: Verse: 4 Em G D Em D At the Harvest Fair she'll be surely there and I'll dress in my Sunday clothes Em G D Em D Em With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right for a smile from my nut brown rose G D Em D No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke till my plough is a rust coloured brown Em G D Em D Em And a smiling bride, by my own fireside sits the star of the County Down

Enviado por: Roberto Poiel

Corrigido por: sem correções