Christy Moore - Lakes of pontchartrain

It ^Gwas one ^G/F#fine March ^Emmor^Dning I ^Cbid New Orleans a^Gdieu And I ^Gtook the ^G/F#road to ^EmJackson ^Dtown, my ^Emfortune to re^Cnew I ^Gcursed all ^G/F#foreign ^Emmo-^Dney, no ^Emcredit could I ^Cgain til I ^Gfell in ^G/F#love with the ^EmCreole ^Dgirl by the ^Clakes of Ponchar^Gtrain

She ^Gtook me ^G/F#into her ^EmMama's ^Dhouse, and ^Ctreated me right ^Gwell The ^Ghair u^G/F#pon her ^Emshoul^Dders in ^Emjet black ringlets ^Cfell To ^Gtry and ^G/F#paint her ^Embeau^Dty, I ^Emknow it would be in ^Cvain So ^Ghandsome ^G/F#was my ^EmCreole ^Dgirl by the ^Clakes of Ponchar^Gtrain

I ^Gasked her if she'd marry me, ^CShe said that ne'er could ^Gbe For ^Gshe had got a lo-ver and he was far at ^Csea She ^Gsaid that she would ^Cwait for ^Dhim and ^Gtrue she would re^Cmain Till ^Ghe'd return to his Creole girl on the ^Clakes of Ponchar^Gtrain

^GFare thee ^G/F#well, me ^EmCreole ^Dgirl, I ^Cnever will see you ^Gmore I ^Gwon't for^G/F#get your ^Emkind^Dness in the ^Emcottage by the ^Cshore And ^Gat each ^G/F#social ^Emgathe^Dring, a ^Emflowing bowl I'll ^Cdrain And ^GI'll drink a ^G/F#health to my ^EmCreole ^Dgirl by the ^Clakes of Ponchar^Gtrain