D  Bm
D  Bm

[Verse 1]
D                           Bm
What need you being come to sense
D                      Bm
But fumble in a greasy till
D                            Bm
And add the halfpence to the pence
D                                Bm
And prayer to shivering prayer until

[Chorus 1]
G#dim                            G
You've dried the marrow from the bone
                              D              Bm
For men were born to pray and save, pray and save
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D             Bm
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave

[Verse 2]
D                            Bm
Yet they were of a different kind
D                                      Bm
Those names that stilled your childish play
D                                   Bm
They have gone about the world like wind
D                           Bm
But little time had they to pray

[Chorus 2]
G#dim                           G
For whom the hangman's rope was spun
                                  D                 Bm
And what, God help us, could they save, could they save?
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D             Bm
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave

[Verse 3]

D                              Bm
Was it for this the wild geese spread?
D                        Bm
The grey wing upon every tide
D                                Bm
For this that all that blood was shed
D                   Bm
For this Fitzgerald died

[Chorus 3]
G#dim                      G
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone
                         D            Bm
All that delirium of the brave of the brave
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D             Bm
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave

[Verse 4]
D                           Bm
Yet could we turn the years again
D                                Bm
And we call those exiles as they were
D                           Bm
In all their loneliness and pain
D                               Bm
You'd cry: "Some woman's yellow hair..."

[Chorus 4]
G#dim                        G
"Has maddened every mother's son"
                                  D               Bm
They weighed so lightly what they gave, what they gave
G#dim                             G
But let them be, they're dead and gone
                            D             Bm
They're with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave


G#dim                             G
But let them be, they're dead and gone
                            D             Bm
They're with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
G#dim                       G
Romantic Ireland's dead and gone
                         D             Bm
It's with O'Leary in the grave, in the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave
       D             Bm
In the grave, in the grave