Ryan McMullan - The streets of new york

^GI was eighteen years ^Amold when I ^Bmwent down to D^Cublin With a ^Gfistful of ^Emmoney and a ^Amcartload of ^Ddreams. "Take you^Gr time," said my ^Amfather, "stop ^Bmrushing like h^Cell, And r^Gemember all's ^Emnot what it s^D7eems to b^Ge.

For there's ^Dfellas who'd cut you for the ^Ccoat on your ^Gback, Or that ^Cwatch that you ^Emgot from your ^Dmother. So take ^Gcare, my young ^Ambucko, and ^Bmmind yourself w^Cell. And would you ^Ggive this wee ^D7note to my ^Gbrother."

At the ^Dtime, Uncle Benjy was a ^Cpoliceman in ^GBrooklyn, And my ^Cfather, the youngest, looked ^Cafter the ^Dfarm. Til a ^Gphone call from ^AmAmerica said "^BmSend the lad o^Cver." And my ^Gold fella ^Emsaid, "Sure, t'wouldn't ^Ddo any ^Gharm.

For I've ^Dspent my life ^Cworking this ^Gdirty old ground For a ^Cfew pints of po^Emrter and the sm^Dell of a pound. And sure, ma^Gybe there's ^Amsomething you'll ^Bmlearn or you'll s^Cee, And you can ^Gbring it back ^Emhome, make it ^D7easier on m^Ge."

^GSo, I landed at ^AmKennedy, and a ^Bmbig yellow t^Caxi Carried ^Gme and my ^Embags through the ^Amstreets and the ^Drain. Well, my ^Gpoor heart was ^Amthumping a^Bmround with e^Cxcitement, And I ^Ghardly even ^Emheard what the d^D7river was s^Gaying.

We came ^Din the Shore Parkway through the ^Cflatlands in ^GBrooklyn, To my ^Cuncle's a^Empartment on East ^D53rd. I was ^Gfeeling so ^Amhappy, I was ^Bmhumming a s^Cong, And I ^Gsang "You're as ^D7free as a ^Gbird."

Well, to ^Dshorten the story, what I ^Cfound out that ^Gday ^CWas that Benjy ^Emgot shot down in an ^Duptown foray. And ^Gwhile I was ^Amflying my ^Bmway to New ^CYork, Poor ^GBenjy was ^Emlying in a ^Dcold city ^Gmorgue.

Well, I ^Dcalled up my ^Cold fella, to^Gld him the news. I could ^Ctell he coul^Emd hardly stand u^Dp in his shoes. And he ^Gwept as he ^Amtold me go a^Bmhead with the p^Clan, And ^Gnot to f^Emorget, be a ^Dproud Irish ^Gman.

^GSo, I went up to ^AmNellie's b^Bmeside Fordham R^Coad, And I ^Gstarted to ^Emlearn about l^Amifting my ^Dload. But the^G heaviest ^Amthing that I ^Bmcarried that y^Cear Was the ^Gbittersweet ^Emthoughts of my ^D7hometown so ^Cdear.

I went ^Dhome that December cause m^Cy old fell^Ga died. I had to ^Cborrow the ^Emmoney from a fella on the ^Dside. And ^Gall the bright ^Amflowers and b^Bmrass couldn't h^Cide The ^Gpoor, wasted ^D7face of me ^Gfather.

I sold ^Dup the old ^Cfarmyard for ^Gwhat it was worth, And i^Cnto my bag stuck a ^Emhandful of e^Darth. Then I ^Gboarded a ^Amtrain and I ^Bmcaught me a p^Clane, And I ^Gfound myself ^Emback in the ^DU.S. ^Gagain.

It's been ^Dtwenty-two years sin^Cce I set fo^Got in Dublin. My ^Emkids know to use the correct knife^D and fork. But I'll ^Gnever ^Amforget the green ^Bmgrass and the r^Civers, As I ^Gkeep law and ^Emorder in the ^Dstreets of New^G York