Daoiri Farrell - The hills of granemore

One ^Gfine winter’s ^Dmorning, my ^Bmhorn I did ^Ablow To the ^Dgreen fields of^G Keady, to h^Aunt I did g^Do We ^Ggathered our ^Ddogs and we ^Gcircled a^Bmround Oh, for none ^Aloves the hunt ^Dbetter than the ^Bmboys of Mayd^Aown

And ^Gwhen we arr^Dived, they were ^Bmall standing ^Athere So we t^Dook to the f^Gields boys, in ^Asearch of a^D hare But we ^Gdid not go ^Dfar ’til some^Gone gave a c^Bmheer Over h^Aigh hills and ^Dvalleys, the ^Bmwee hare did st^Aeer

When she^G got to the ^Dheather, she ^Bmtried them to ^Ashon But the ^Ddogs they never ^Gmissed her, one ^Ainch where she ^Dran They^G were kept well ^Dpacked, goin^Gg over the ^Bmhill They ^Ahad set thems^Delves on this^Bm wee hare to ki^All

And it ^Gbeing quite ^Dearly, I s^Bmtopped for a ^Awhile Twas l^Dittle I tho^Gught they were g^Aoing to meet ^DCoyle For h^Gad I known t^Dhat, I’d have ^Glain near the ^Bmtown I’d have^A tried to get ^Drid of those^Bm dogs of M^Aaydown

As we ^Gdrew o’er the ^Dhill it was a ^Bmbeautiful s^Aight There we^Dre dogs black and y^Gellow and ^Adogs black and ^Dwhite And she ^Gtook to the ^Dblack bank to ^Gtry them once ^Bmmore Oh, and it ^Awas our last ^Dlook on the ^Bmhills of G^Aranemore

And ^Gas they grew ^Dnear where the ^Bmwee hare did ^Alie She s^Dprung up to her ^Gfeet for to ^Abid them good^Dbye But their ^Gmusic did ^Dcease and her ^Gcry we did ^Bmhear Saying bad^A luck the ^Dones brought the ^BmMaydown dogs ^Ahere

In a ^Gfield of wheat ^Dstubble, the ^Bmwee hare did ^Alie And ^DRory and ^GCharmer, did s^Aoon pass her ^Dby And ^Gthere where we ^Dstood at the ^Gtop of the ^Bmbrae I h^Aeard the last ^Dwords that the ^Bmwee hare did ^Asay

No m^Gore o’er the g^Dreen fields of ^BmKeady I’ll ^Arun Or ^Dtrip through the ^Gfields in s^Aport or in ^Dfun For last ^Gnight as I ^Dlay quite con^Gtent in the g^Bmlen It was ^Alittle my t^Dhoughts were of ^Bmdogs and of m^Aen

And ^Gno more o’er the ^Dgreen fields of ^BmKeady I’ll ^Aroam And ^Dnow that I am ^Gdying the s^Aport is all ^Ddone Nor ^Ghear the long ^Dhorn that Joe ^GToner does ^Bmplay Or go ^Ahome to my ^Dbed by the cle^Bmar break of d^Aay

You may^G blame Owen Mc^DMahon for b^Bmringing Coyle ^Ahere He’s been ^Dat the same ^Gcaper for ^Amany a y^Dear Every ^GSaturday or ^GSunday, he’ll n^Gever give o^Bm’er With a ^Apack of strange ^Ddogs ’round the ^Bmhills of Grane^Amore