i tabbed it 2 steps up: C F C G7 Oh list' to the lay of a poor Irish harper, Am F C F And scorn not the strings in his old withered hands, C F Am G7 But remember those fingers, they once could move sharper, Am F C-Gsus4-C To raise up the strains of his dear native land. C F C G7 It was long before the shamrock, dear Isle's lovely emblem, Am F C F Was crushed in its beauty by the Saxon's lion paw, C F Am G7 And all the pretty colleens around me would gather, Am F C-Gsus4-C Called me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh. C F C G7 How I love to muse on the days of my boyhood, Am F C F Though four score and three years have fled by since then. C F Am G7 Still it gives sweet reflection, as every young joys should, Am F C-Gsus4-C For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men. C F C G7 At a fair or a wake I would twist my shillelagh, Am F C F And trip through a dance with my brogues tied with straw. C F Am G7 There all the pretty maidens around me would gather, Am F C-Gsus4-C Called me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh. C F C G7 In truth I have wandered this wide world over, Am F C F Yet Ireland's my home and a dwelling for me. C F Am G7 And, oh, let the turf that my old bones shall cover Am F C-Gsus4-C Be cut from the land that is trod by the free. C F C G7 And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms doth embrace me, Am F C F And lulls me to sleep with old 'Erin-go-Bragh', C F Am G7 By the side of my Kathleen, my dear pride, oh, place me, Am F C-Gsus4-C Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.