(C)I was 18 years(G7)when I (C)went down to (F)Dublin
With a (C)fistful of (Am)money and a (F)cartload of (G7)dreams
Take your (C)time said me (G7)father stop (C)rushing like (F)hell
And (C)remember that all is not what it (G7)seems to (C)be
For there's (G7)fellows would cut you for the (F)coat on your (C)back
Or the watch that you got from your (G7)mother
So take (C)care me young (G7)buck-o and (C)mind yourself (F)well
And will you (C)give this wee (F)note to me (C)brother
At the (G7)time Uncle Benjie was a (F)policeman in(C)Brooklyn
And me father the youngest looked (G7)after the farm
When a (C)phone call from (G7)America said (C)send the (F)over
And the (C)old fella (Am)said it wouldn't (G7)do any (C)harm
For I (F)spent my life workingthis (C)dirty old ground
For a (F)few pints oof porter and the (C)smell of a (G7)pound
And sure (C)maybe there's (G7)something you'll (C)learn or you'll
(F)see
And you can (C)bring it back (F)home , make it (G7)easy on (C)me
         
                      Slainte,
                        Sandy