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Capo: 3rd Fret

         Am                         Am
 In the merry month of June,  When first from home I started
  Am                          G
 Left the girls of Tuam,  So sad and broken hearted
   Am                    Am
 Saluted Father dear,  Kissed me darlin' Mother
      Am                         G
 And drank a pint of beer,  Me grief and tears to smother
      Am               G      Am                G
 Then off to reap the corn,  Leave where I was born
 Am              G             G                 G
 Cut a stout blackthorn,  To banish ghosts and goblin
  Am                G        Am              G
 Bought a pair of brogues,  Rattle over the bogs
    Am               G     G                      G
 Frightened all the dogs,  On the rocky road to Dublin

 Am          G           Am
 One, Two, Three, Four, Five
  Am                         Am
 Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
      G                       Am       G     Am
 And all the ways to Dublin, Whack fol la de da

            Am                     Am
 When in Mullingar that night,  I rested limbs so weary
   Am                       G
 Started by daylight, Me spirits bright and early
  Am                   Am
 Took a drop o' pure, Keep me heart from sinking
  Am                        G
 That's a paddy's cure,  Whenever he's on drinking
    Am                 G        Am             G
 To see the lassie's smile,  Laughing all the while
 Am              G             G                   G
 At me curious style,   Would set your heart to bubbling
  Am              G     Am        G
 Asked me I was hired, Wages I required
Am              G    G                      G
 I was almost tired, On the rocky road to Dublin

 Am          G           Am
 One, Two, Three, Four, Five
  Am                         Am
 Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
      G                       Am       G     Am
 And all the ways to Dublin, Whack fol la de da

          Am                       Am
 Well in Dublin next arrived,  I thought it be a pity
    Am                      G
 To be so soon deprived, A view of that fine city
  Am                    Am
 Then I took a stroll,  All among the quality
     Am                   G
 Me bundle it was stole,  In a neat locality
    Am                 G      Am             G
 Something crossed me mind,  When I looked behind
     Am             G       G                G
 No bundle could I find,  Upon me stick a wobbling
    Am                 G          Am                G
 Enquiring after the rogue, They said me Connacht brouge
  Am              G    G                      G
 Wasn't much in vogue, On the rocky road to Dublin

 Am          G           Am
 One, Two, Three, Four, Five
  Am                         Am
 Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
      G                       Am       G     Am
 And all the ways to Dublin, Whack fol la de da

              Am                     Am
 Well, From  there I got away,  Me spirits never failing
   Am                      G
 Landed on the quay,  Just as the ship was sailing
   Am                    Am
 Captain at me roared,  Said that no room had he
  Am                        G
 When I jumped aboard,  A cabin found for Paddy
  Am             G       Am                G
 Down among the pigs,  Played some hearty rigs
  Am                 G           G               G
 Danced some hearty jigs,  The water round me bubblin'
  Am         G           Am               G
 When off Holyhead,  I wished meself was dead
       Am          G      G                      G
 Or, Better far instead,  On the rocky road to Dublin

 Am          G           Am
 One, Two, Three, Four, Five
  Am                         Am
 Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
      G                       Am       G     Am
 And all the ways to Dublin, Whack fol la de da

            Am                  Am
 Well, The boys of Liverpool,  When we safely landed
   Am                       G
 Called meself a fool,  I could no longer stand it
  Am                     Am
 Blood began to boil,  Temper I was losing
  Am                     G
 Poor ould Erins Isle,  They began abusing
  Am                 G        Am             G
 Hurrah me soul says I,    Shillelagh I let fly
        Am             G     G            G
 Some Galway boys were by,  Saw I was a-hollerin'
  Am                G            Am             G
 Then with a loud horray,  They joined in the affray
      Am                 G     G                      G
 We quickly cleared the way,  For the rocky road to Dublin

 Am          G           Am
 One, Two, Three, Four, Five
  Am                         Am
 Hunt the hare and turn her down the rocky road
      G                       Am           G           Am
 And all the ways to Dublin, Whack   fol   la      de daaaa