The Chieftains - Red is the rose

^DCome over the h^Bmills, my b^Emonnie Irish l^Gass Come ^Dover the ^Bmhills to your ^Gdarli^Ang ^GYou choose the ^Drose love, and ^GI’ll make the ^Emvow And ^DI’ll be your t^Grue ^Dlove fo^Grev^Der

^DRed is the r^Bmose that in ^Emyonder garden ^Ggrows And ^Dfair is the ^Bmlily of the ^Gvall^Aey ^GClear is the w^Dater that ^Gflows from the ^EmBoyne But ^Dmy love is ^Gfairer than ^A7any^D.

^D‘Twas down by ^BmKillarney’s green ^Emwoods that we stra^Gyed When the ^Dmoon and the ^Bmstars they were s^Ghinin^Ag The ^Gmoon shone its r^Days on her l^Gocks of golden^Em hair And ^Dshe swore she’d be ^Gmy l^Dove f^Gore^Dver

^DRed is the r^Bmose that in ^Emyonder garden ^Ggrows And ^Dfair is the ^Bmlily of the ^Gvall^Aey ^GClear is the w^Dater that ^Gflows from the ^EmBoyne But ^Dmy love is ^Gfairer than ^A7any^D.

^DIt’s not for the ^Bmparting of my ^Emsister ^GKate It’s n^Dot for the l^Bmoss of my ^Gmoth^Aer It’s ^Gall for the ^Dloss of my b^Gonnie Irish l^Emass That is ^Dleaving old ^GIreland f^A7orev^Der.

^DRed is the r^Bmose that in ^Emyonder garden ^Ggrows And ^Dfair is the ^Bmlily of the ^Gvall^Aey ^GClear is the w^Dater that ^Gflows from the ^EmBoyne But ^Dmy love is ^Gfairer than ^A7any^D.

^DIt’s not for the ^Bmparting that m^Emy sister ^Gpains It’s n^Dot for the g^Bmrief of my ^Gmoth^Aer ‘Tis ^Gall for the ^Dloss of my b^Gonnie Irish l^Emass That^D my heart i^Gs breaking f^A7ore^Dver

^DRed is the r^Bmose that in ^Emyonder garden ^Ggrows And ^Dfair is the ^Bmlily of the ^Gvall^Aey ^GClear is the w^Dater that ^Gflows from the ^EmBoyne But ^Dmy love is ^Gfairer than ^A7any^D.