Don McLean - Mountians o mourne

Oh, ^GMary, this London's a ^Cwonderful ^Amsight With ^D7people here working by ^Gday and by night They ^Gdon't sow potatoes nor ^Cbarley nor ^Amwheat But there's ^D7gangs of them diggin' for ^Ggold in the street At ^D7least when I asked them, that's ^Gwhat I was ^Emtold So ^GI just took a ^Emhand at this ^Amdiggin' for ^D7gold But for ^Gall that I've found there, I ^Cmight as well ^Ambe In the ^D7place where the dark Mourne sweeps ^Gdown to the sea

I be^Glieve that when writin' a ^Cwish you ex^Ampressed As to ^D7how the fine ladies of ^GLondon were dressed But ^Gif you'll believe me, when ^Casked to a ^Amball They ^D7don't wear no tops to their ^Gdresses at all Oh, I've ^D7seen them myself and you ^Gcould not in ^Emtruth Tell ^Gif they were ^Embound for a ^Amball or a ^D7bath Don't be ^Gstartin' them fashions now, ^CMary Mc^AmCree, In the ^D7place where the dark Mourne sweeps ^Gdown to the sea

There's ^Gbeautiful girls here, oh, ^Cnever you ^Ammind Be^D7autiful shapes nature ^Gnever designed Lo^Gvely complexions of ^Croses and ^Amcream But ^D7let me remark with re^Ggard to the same That ^D7if at those roses you ^Gventure to ^Emsit The ^Gcolors might ^Emall come a^Amway on your ^D7lip So I'll ^Gwait for the wild rose that's ^Cwaitin' for ^Amme In the ^D7place where the dark Mourne sweeps ^Gdown to the sea

You re^Gmember young Danny Mc^CClaren, of ^Amcourse But ^D7he's over here with the ^Grest of the force I ^Gsaw him one day as he s^Ctood on the s^Amtrand St^D7opped all the traffic with a ^Gwave of his hand As ^D7we were talking of ^Gdays that are ^Emgone The ^Gwhole town of ^EmLondon stood ^Amthere to look ^D7on But for ^Gall his great powers, he's ^Cwishful like ^Amme To be ^D7back where the dark Mourne sweeps ^Gdown to the sea^{C/G G}