2 acessos
Am Asus4 Am D/A D7/A D6/A Am D/A | / / / /__/ | / / / /___/ | / / / / | / / / / | Am7 D/A Asus2 D/A | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | [Verse 1] Am7 D/A Tá bean in Éirinn a phronnfadh séad domh Am D/A Is mo sháith le n-ól Am7 D/A Is tá bean in Éirinn is ba bhinne léithe Cadd9 D G Mo ráfla ceoil ná seinm théad Em Dsus2 Cadd9 Atá bean in Éirinn is níorbh fhearr léi beo Am7 D Cadd9 D G Mise ag léimnigh nó leagtha i gcré is mo thárr faoi fhód [Verse 2] Am7 Cadd9 D Tá bean in Éirinn a bheadh ag éad liom Am7 D Mur' bhfaighfinn ach póg Am7 Cadd9 D Ó bhean ar aonach, nach ait an scéala, Cadd9 D G Is mo dháimh féin leo, tá bean ab fhearr liom Em Dsus2 Cadd9 Nó cath is céad dhíobh nach bhfagham go deo Am7 Cadd9 D Is tá cailín spéiriúil ag fear gan Bhéarla, Cadd9 D G Dubhghránna cróin [Violin Break] Am Asus4 Am D/A D7/A D6/A Am D/A | / / / /__/ | / / / /___/ | / / / / | / / / / | Am7 D/A Asus2 D/A | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | / / / / | [Verse 3] Am7 D/A Tá bean a déarfadh dá siulfainn léi Am D/A Go bhfaighinn an t-ór Am7 D/A Is tá bean 'na léine is fearr a méin Cadd9 D G Ná na táinte bó le bean a bhuairfeadh Em Dsus2 Cadd9 Baile an Mhaoir is clár Thír Eoghain, Am7 D/A Cadd9 D G Is ní fheicim leigheas ar mo ghalar féin ach scaird a dh'ól =========================================================== There's a woman in Ireland who'd give me a gem, And my fill to drink, There's a woman in Ireland, To whom my singing is sweeter than the music of strings, There's a woman in Ireland, Who would much prefer me leaping, Than laid in the clay and my belly under the sod There's a woman in Ireland who'd envy me, If I got naught but a kiss from a woman at a fair, Isn't it strange and the love I have for them, There's a woman I'd prefer to a battalion, And a hundred of them whom I will never get, And an ugly, swarthy man with no English has a beautiful girl There's a woman who would say, That if I walked with her I'd get the gold, And there's the woman of the shirt Whose mien is better than herds of cows, With a woman who would deafen Baile an Mhaoir And the plain of Tyrone, And I see no cure for my disease, but to have a drink