Solas - Michael conway

Oh my ^Fname is Michael C^C/Eonway, in old^Am Ireland I was ^Fborn Near the^F lake of Cloonac^C/Eolly on a br^Fight summer's m^Gorn But s^Foon came cruel ^Fwinter to br^C/Eeak and scatter my poor h^Fome Soo^Fn came the h^Farsh ^Fday that f^Gorced me to r^Foam.

Well I ^Freached old Philade^C/Elphia in the br^Amave land of the f^Free Where I ^Fmet with my two br^C/Eothers; There was P^Fat, James, and m^Ge We were^F destined for the ^Frich land fate o^C/Ewes us all from bi^Frth We were b^Found for Butte, ^FMonta^Fna, the ri^Gchest hill on e^Farth

Where their ^Fpockets they bulge h^Feavy, when cop^Fper's running hi^Fgh Where the ^Fhill rewards her br^Fave sons, it's for^Amtune or d^Gie Where they ^Ftread on silver d^C/Eollars on the cr^Amowded barroom fl^Foor While they s^Ftrip the granite m^Fount^Fain of her pr^Gecious copper o^Fre.

Well we l^Feaped down off that st^C/Eeam train, and stepped^Am out into the yellow mi^Fst With ho^Fles still in our he^C/Earts then, and a fi^Fght in either f^Gist No kind ^Fface to le^Fad us up to where the d^C/Eirty smelter s^Fpat And it's ^Fthere I took to hard l^Fab^For as a Bu^Gtte mining r^Fat

Where we ^Ftrade the hours of ^Fdaylight for the sm^Fell of copper o^Fre, Where it's ^Fwhiskey and the c^Fow pats to cure^Am our copper s^Gores Where h^Falf the town it l^C/Eabors while the ot^Amher half it sl^Feeps Where ^Fupon the granite m^Fount^Fain, a m^Gile high and d^Feep.

Oh they ^Fknow me down in Do^C/Egtown, bare kn^Amuckle I would g^Fo For t^Fhere's not a man could ^C/Ebest me while st^Fanding toe to ^Gtoe But I d^Fefied the crooked sh^Feriff, for I w^C/Eouldn't throw his fight a^Fway He sh^Fould have laid it on at 5^F to ^F2, and ba^Gcked the bold Co^Fnway

I was^F lifted in Con^C/E Peoples, with the ^Ambeer and music flowing f^Free Where my^F brothers had just l^C/Eeft me, Oh bad for^Ftune for m^Ge Dragged^F out by crooked c^Fowards, their b^C/Eatons knocked me off my ^Ffeet And the^Fy left me to d^Fie th^Fere, like a d^Gog in the st^Freet.

Far f^From the Ana^Fconda, the mi^Fne with seven s^Ftacks Far f^From the ashen f^Faces of youn^Amg men with crooked ba^Gcks Far f^From the grani^C/Ete mountain and the dus^Amty grave in which I ^Flie My ^Fspirit chases st^Farl^Fings 'round a c^Glear Mayo s^Fky.